Shattered Tapestry
by Makura Koneko
Summary: *Discontinued* The battle with Chaos went all wrong. Now, almost 1000 years later, five recruits are drafted to join the Elite, a group of warriors believed to be the descendants of the Senshi. But what if these five are actually the Senshi themselves?
1. Prologue

1 Shattered Tapestry  
  
2 By Makura Koneko  
  
  
  
3 Prologue  
  
  
  
The battle with Chaos had gone wrong, completely, horribly wrong. She'd known it the moment Chaos had killed Chibi-Chibi before she completed her transformation into Sailor Cosmos. Sailor Pluto knew this, even as her body was disintegrating. She knew that this time Time would not bring her back… Time was on it's own, now… Destiny was no longer set. Crystal Tokyo would still happen, yes. Chibi-Usa would be fine, yes…but the path to get to the world's ultimate end had changed… Oh, how it had changed!  
  
Setsuna kicked herself, as her hand crumbled before her eyes, for not seeing it… It wasn't supposed to happen this way! Chaos should be dead by now, according to the law of destiny… But the tapestry that was time and fate and destiny had been shredded. And even if it could be repaired, the tapestry was forever changed… Oh, how it had changed!  
  
Sailor Pluto, the former Guardian of time, glanced over at the young woman shining with a silver light…no, she was no longer 'young.' Physically she was no more that seventeen, but for the past three years she had held the weight of the world on her shoulders… she was no longer 'young.'  
  
"I'm sorry, hime…" Pluto whispered, laying on the ground of the battlefield, surrounded by the blood of her long dead comrades as Pluto's body, the weight of living longer than time itself finally catching up to her, crumbling to ashes.  
  
"Be at peace, Pluto," A silvery voice drifted through the stars…piercing the malicious sound of evil itself laughing in glee. "Be at peace…everything will be fine…. I no longer have to worry about upsetting the balance of fate and destiny, therefore… Therefore there is nothing to restrain me from correcting what has been wronged… It will take time, Guardian of Time…it will take thousands of years, but I promise you, my friend, everything will be fine… The Senshi will rise again… I promise…"  
  
Even from her palace on the ground, Pluto could see her hime's face… The Princess- no, the Goddess Serenity smiled slightly as she clutched a simple stone of silver to her naked breast.  
  
Pluto understood her hime's words. She smiled softly, met her princess's shining eyes, and Pluto's body fell to ashes, swept away by the winds of time.  
  
Time snapped.  
  
Destiny crumbled.  
  
Fate vanished.  
  
From amongst the blood of the warriors of the galaxy came ten baby voices, crying out in infant wails…  
  
Silver flashed…  
  
Ten glowing runes* of power flashed, flared, and soared into the sky to join their respective origins until the time was right for them to live again…  
  
Serenity fell.  
  
Chaos screamed…  
  
And a new era began, one that would have to guide itself without the aide of Destiny…  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
To Be Continued….  
  
  
  
*runes = symbols/marks that represent something. 


	2. Chapter One

1 Shattered Tapestry  
  
2 By Makura Koneko  
  
  
  
3 Chapter One  
  
  
  
Date: 2890  
  
3.1 Eight hundred and ninety years after the Battle of Chaos  
  
  
  
  
  
Jovia peeked out of the shadow that was the only thing keeping her, hiding her, from death. Or at least a very painful beating and dragging to the Coralation- the prison. To her bosom she clutched the reason for her being chased by the Elite. She looked at it now; an oval ring of brilliant gold, on a chain, with an odd symbol in the center of the oval, tilted slightly. It resembled an ancient terran number '4.' Four was Jovia's favorite number, probably because of the number 'four' shaped birthmark on her upper right arm.  
  
It had been several minutes since Jovia had hidden in the shadows of an alleyway, and not so much as a whisper of the fine cloth that made up an Elite Officer's uniform. Peeking around the corner cautiously, and seeing nothing but a small sewer rat, Jovia breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out into the sunlight, sunlight that was patched because of the breathtakingly complex crisscrossing of bridges and water pipes and overpasses that loomed up ahead. Those bridges were part of Alalia-sky, the upper third of the city of Alalia.  
  
Jovia was a resident of Alalia-under, the ground level of Alalia. Only the dirtiest, poorest, most unfortunate of souls ended up down here. There were elevators and stairways and air-flats that lifted one up to Alalia-between, then on to Alalia-sky (Alalia-sky was the only level that saw more than a two inch speck of sunlight, thus 'Alalia-sky.'). But you could only use them (to go up, anyway; anyone could come down; it was their funeral.) if one had enough proof to prove they were a) rich enough or b) of a noble house. If you were not either…well, there was a reason that the pathways to Alalia-above (what residents of Alalia-under called both Alalia-between and Alalia-sky.) were guarded by the Elite with charged blasters.  
  
Jovia cursed her luck and stupidity for choosing a Cleansing Day (the one day of the week Elite Troops were sent down to Alalia-under to do some 'pest control.') to do her…business.  
  
Jovia examined her new trinket, watching with delight at the way it shimmered in the pale sunlight. It would fetch quite a price with Amarea, that was for sure. Maybe she would sell it to a rich lady, or a wealthy merchant on his way to Cascabanae, the artificial moon that orbited earth the opposite way as Lunaria, Earth's natural moon.  
  
"Pst!" A sharp hiss caught Jovia's always open ears. Her body automatically tensed as she strung the amulet over her neck, poised for a fight…  
  
"Jovia!" A familiar voice hissed. Jovia looked around.  
  
"Nenaphe?" Jovia murmured softly, emerald green eyes darting here and there.  
  
"Yes, it's me! Quick, Jovia, down here! The Elite are coming right this way!" Jovia looked down. At her feet, to her left, was a partially open manhole. Peeking out of the darkness under the manhole cover was a pair of brilliant, sparkling-with-intelligence navy blue eyes, surrounded by wisps of ebony black hair. Jovia dropped down into the manhole after shoving it aside a bit more. Gripping the ladder with both legs and one hand, Jovia pulled the heavy iron manhole back into place without any trouble.  
  
"Took me forever to shove that thing the tiny bit I did!" Nenaphe sighed quietly. Although it was pitch black, Jovia could tell the blue haired, tiny girl was shaking her head. Jovia grinned.  
  
"Hey, you've got the brains, I've got the brawns." Jovia said, giving the girl a one armed hug. Nenaphe smiled as they made their way through the sewers –long dry because the sewer tunnel had collapsed in a section a ways behind them, blocking the refuge. Eventually they made their way to a smaller tunnel that lead off the main one. They ducked into it, Jovia being so tall that it was almost as if she might as well have been crawling. They emerged into a bubble like, cement room. There were two old mats, a few patched blankets, lamps, candles, matches; a small stove made from a few random, usefully shaped metal scraps and a pot of oil.  
  
"Was your…outing successful?" Nenaphe asked, her gentle voice somewhat stiff. Jovia smiled gently; Ami hated the concept of stealing and- wait a sec. Her thoughts froze. Ami? Who the heck was Ami? This was Nenaphe she was talking to! Yet the name, Ami, and directed at the blue haired girl next to her who was rummaging for a few pieces of dried meat…it felt…right…  
  
Jovia shook her head. She must be hungrier than she thought…  
  
"Jovia?" Nenaphe asked, glancing over her shoulder. Jovia blinked, then shook her head again.  
  
"I'm fine, Nephie," She said, forcing a smile. "And the hunt was great." Jovia pulled the medallion out from under her patched and frayed, midriff- baring peasant's blouse, tied under her bosom with a length of twin that went in and out of loops in the material to keep it in place. She held it out to Nenaphe, who hesitantly took it. Her eyes widened in surprise as she examined it.  
  
"What?" Jovia asked, seeing her friend's expression.  
  
"This is the symbol of the Roman God Jupiter!" Nenaphe exclaimed. Jovia's interest perked; she was aware that her name resembled another name for the planet/god Jupiter; Jovian.  
  
"Maybe I'll keep it, then…" Jovia mussed as Nenaphe handed it back.  
  
"I'd agree with you, Jovia," Nenaphe sighed as she lit the pot of oil under their makeshift stove. "But you know how I feel about stealing, and it'd be worse for you to keep it. I wouldn't let you gaffle at all if we didn't need the money, but we're low on just about everything, and that shirt of yours is about to fall off; we need to get you some cloth from Marina."  
  
"Marina? That old witch?" Jovia scowled at the reference to a resident of Alalia-between, one who was generally more friendly towards the residents of Alalia-under. She owned a cloth shop, and her sister, Vrida, owned a engine repair shop right next to it. Nenaphe laughed softly.  
  
"Jovia," She said gently, as a mother would to an errant daughter. "Marina is a very kind and generous woman."  
  
"When she's not being all witchy and mysterious," Jovia muttered. "It's uncanny how someone can be that beautiful and still be a virgin in this place."  
  
"Well it's really not all that much of a wonder, seeing how her sister, Vrida, is constantly glaring at anyone –male or female- who looks at her wrong," Nenaphe pointed out. "And have you seen their muscles? Those don't come from cloth weaving and engine repairing."  
  
"I wouldn't know," Jovia grumbled, taking a shriveled up onion and a blunt knife from Nenaphe's hands and expertly slicing the valuable vegetable and dropping the chunks into a small pot of boiling water over the cup of flaming oil.  
  
"I remember that time when you and Amarea were doing a deal, and Vrida walked by, and you thought she was a man!" Nenaphe laughed in amusement. Jovia grinned as well at the memory. She and Amarea had spent the day tailing 'him,' completely memorized by the 'hunky god of a man' only to see 'him' embrace a breathtakingly beautiful aqua haired woman, with the hands of an artist. Only when the woman, Marina, had called 'him,' 'sister' did they notice the slight bumps under the 'man's loose blouse…  
  
Jovia laughed. Amarea had been so mortified, as had she. The two had never spoken about it since. Jovia was released from her memories as Nenaphe handed her a small chunk of half-dried, half-rotting meat, and Jovia set to cutting off the rancid areas. She handed the rotten chunks to Nenaphe, who went outside to put them in the rat-traps.  
  
A scream interrupted Jovia's task, a scream that Jovia recognized as Nenaphe's. Jovia's blood went cold and she, meat knife in hand, sprang to her feet and ran out the exit and down the tunnel, exploding out into the main sewer tunnel, knife hand raised, eyes flashing, ready to-  
  
Jovia backed up against the wall, chest heaving, her arms quivering with rage; a man in the uniform of an Elite officer held Nenaphe by her chin length hair, his other arm wrapped around her, and a knife to her throat.  
  
"Let her go…" Jovia hissed vehemently. There was no way she was letting these creeps take Ami- Nenaphe to the Corelation! They'd beat her, rape her, brand her, sell her…try to break her…and sweet, gentle Am- no, Nenaphe would be all to easy to break…  
  
4 And why the hell did she keep calling Nenaphe 'Ami?'  
  
"Lita…" Nenaphe whispered.  
  
"S'kay, A – Nephie…" Jovia told her best friend, completely bewildered as to why she had responded to the name 'Lita.' "It'll be fine…"  
  
"Not for you it won't, not if you don't cooperate," Another Elite, to Jovia's right, snarled. Jovia tightened her grip on her knife…she discreetly slipped her bare toes under a nearby, empty rat cage…  
  
With a flash she flung the rat cage into the face of the man holding Nenaphe, lashed out with the dull meat knife at the Elite on her right, slicing open his throat, and spun a kick to the one on her left. Another Elite came at her, and she brought her fist up into his nose, shattering it and sending bone and cartilage splinters driving deep into his brain, killing him instantly.  
  
It would have been an easy victory, with Nenaphe free and Jovia uninjured, except for that neither of them saw fifth Elite…the one with the electric whip…the whip lashed out, two screams echoed down the sewers, and then there was silence.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Milady," A servant entered the room and knelt on the cold polished wooden floors, hands flat on his thighs, forehead pressed to the ground in the ultimate attitude of humbleness and respect as he addressed the daughter of the most powerful man in Alalia.  
  
"Yes, Frotier?" Sighed a girl of no more than sixteen, sitting on her window seat, basking in the light that came from the newly risen moon, her gown of silver rowdin silk making her glow like a goddess.  
  
"Milady," the servant began. "Milord Altus requests your Radiance's illumescent presence, milady, in the Sky room. Milady, this humble one also conveys the wishes of thy mother that milady do not delay, and that milady don her new pearl robes when visiting Milord Altus."  
  
"Convey my respects to my mother," The young woman said to the servant. "And tell my lord Altus I shall be with him momentarily."  
  
"As my radiant lady wishes," the servant murmured, raising his face, climbing to his feet, bent over very low, his hands raised and clasped above his head as he backed out of the room.  
  
The woman rose to her feet and pulled a large silk rope, summoning her maid. A pair of bright, inquisitive, shining-of-kindness-throughout-years- of-pain violet eyes peeked around the doorframe of the door that connected the woman's suite of rooms to the little maid's.  
  
"Yes, I did, Shinkana," The woman said, smiling at the violet eyed, short, straight-as-a-rod black haired fourteen year old.  
  
"Did you get another suitor summons, my lady Monstrahl?" Shinkana asked, raising an eyebrow as she entered. The woman made a face and nodded as she sat at her vanity.  
  
"Yes….oooooh… I wish mother quit trying to marry me off!" The woman pouted. "It's not as if I'm any trouble." Shinkana gave her mistress a look as she raised her eyebrow at her in the mirror, coming up behind her.  
  
"My lady, I hate to remind you of the escapade concerning your fifth attempt this month to run away to Alalia-between…" Shinkana laughed at her lady's glowering face as she let down her mistress's silken tresses from its intricate weaves and braids.  
  
"Kana, how many times do I have to tell you?" The woman pouted cutely. "Call me Silvra in privet. Or at least Faersilvria if you want to be a little formal. You're my only and truest friend, and I won't have you using titles around me."  
  
"As my lady wishes," Kana teased, and Silvra, exasperated, rolled her eyes, but not without a glimmer of delight in her shining eyes. Then the girl remembered why Kana was doing her hair, and her face fell once more into glumness. Even when pouting and glowering, the youngest lady of the house of Monstrahl was a lovely sight to behold. Eyes as big as the moon and just as bright in their silvery, crystal blue luminescence, and hair that shone like a river of molten astrum; a costly mix of silver, gold, and moonstone dust.  
  
Silvra, as Kana was brushing out her six-foot long tresses, reached over to silver, gold encrusted jewel box and lifted the lid. This particular jewel box, in the shape of the moon and covered with depictions of moon goddesses throughout ancient history, was special, for it held her family's most prized heirloom. Why Silvra had gotten it, when she had three elder sisters far more accomplished in the realm of society than she, was something not even her mother knew.  
  
The contents of the silver moon jewel box was a round, coin sized crystal. Under the moonlight, as it was then, it shone like a silver star. It was nestled amongst cobalt blue velvets and silks, and the silver chain that turned the crystal into a necklace looked like two tiny twin rivers of silver against the dark cloths.  
  
"Do you wish to wear the Crystal this evening, Faersilvria?" Kana inquired. Silvra bit a petite, glossed pink lip in thought, she stroked the crystal…she loved how, in the moonlight, the crystal seemed to shine, and how when she touched it, that shine seemed to absorbed into her fingertips…again she wondered why the crystal had chosen to belong to her… It was a family tradition that every three years, they held a party, and at the party the Crystal was passed, on a stage, to every female member of the Monstrahl household. The person who managed to make it light up got possession of it for another three years.  
  
Silvra had possessed the Crystal since she was three years old, the minimum age to participate in the ceremony.  
  
"It would go quite well with the pearls and crystals I'm going to be putting in your hair," Kana coaxed. She loved it when her mistress –and friend- wore the Crystal. It seemed to bring out the noble lady within her, and everyone seemed to show her more respect when she wore it, as well as Silvra having more respect for herself.  
  
"And it would bring out your eyes, and match perfectly with the pearls and crystals on the new over robe your mother wants you to wear," There, Kana thought, that should get her to want to wear it…  
  
"Very well," Silvra said. "I'll wear it."  
  
"It's 'I shall wear it," milady," Kana smiled. Silvra stuck her tongue out at Kana in the mirror.  
  
"Fine. I shall wear it," Silvra amended. "Happy?"  
  
"It's impossible to be around you and not be happy," Kana laughed. Silvra grinned sheepishly. Kana finished brushing her mistress's tresses, and parted a section of the luxurious hair and began to braid…  
  
"Hey, wait a second…" Silvra said. Kana paused. Silvra tipped her head to one side as she looked at herself in the mirror. She pursed her lips. "Let me try something," Silvra told her. Kana, curious, unweaved the bit she had braided, brushed it out, and backed away. Her hands steady, Silvra parted her hair down the middle of her head, and pulled the right half of her hair over her shoulder. She then went to her left half, and brushed it upwards, securing it with a hair tie…  
  
Kana watched in pleased surprise as her mistress –more of a big, sister, really,- twisted a section of the left hairtail around the base to make a bun, leaving the rest of her hair to cascade down her back to the floor. Silvra did the same with the right half of her hair, fiddling till they were both even and the buns perfectly spherical.  
  
"How pretty…" Kana murmured. It was unique, that was for sure, and rather lovely in its simplicity. Silvra's sisters would never have been caught dead wearing that hairstyle, for indeed it would have made anyone else look ridiculous. But on Faesilvria Monstrahl… It only made her look like a goddess…a moon goddess, with her hair made to look like her patron element; moons.  
  
"Do you think mother will approve?" Silvra asked hesitantly. Kana smiled. "It looks so lovely on you, I can't imagine her objecting," She said, her tone and intuition far to developed and serious for a fourteen year old.  
  
Kana reached over to the silver moon jewel box, lifted the lid, and lifted the silver Crystal. Settling the crystal at the hallow of Silvra's throat, she brought the chains to the back of he neck on either side and clasped together, at the back of her throat. She helped her insert twin silver and pearl and crystal earrings, and then helped her slip into the white, silver trimmed pearl and crystal edged over robe that trailed behind her like a faerie queen's folded wings.  
  
"Perfect," Kana hugged her, and Silvra hugged back.  
  
"Thank you for all your help, Hotaru," Silvra kissed the girl on the cheek, not realizing what she had called her, and turned for the door.  
  
"Pardon?" Kana blinked. Silvra turned back.  
  
"What is it, Kana?" Silvra asked, her face ever so slightly confused and worried that she might have done something wrong…  
  
"What did you call me?" Kana asked, puzzled. Silvra blinked.  
  
"I called you Kana…what else?" Silvra was genuinely confused. Kana blinked, furrowed he brow, then shook her head.  
  
"Nevermind, mistress," Kana told her. "Must have been my imagination." She put in a happy smile for her friend. "Now go down there and knock Altus's socks off! Make him beg for something he can't have!"  
  
"Beg for what that he can't have?" Silvra blinked and Kana laughed.  
  
"You, silly! Show him that while you're kindness and friendship incarnate, he can't have you just because he's got the biggest show boat!" Kana hugged her friend again. "Now go! And for goodness sake, don't trip on that third stair!"  
  
"I won't!" Silvra laughed, and left, leaving Kana to chuckle silently to herself. What had she done to deserve being in a position to be friends with that embodiment of love and friendship? Kana didn't know, but she was grateful for it every day.  
  
Shinkana yawned and went back to her room to get back to sleep, hoping that 'the dream' wouldn't come again…  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Amenea looked down at the mini hourglass strapped to her wrist and frowned. Jovia should have been at their trading post hours ago… Her meetings with other…'business associates' had all been done with an hour before, and she had a sack next to her full of trinkets fit to be sold at least at Alalia- between, if not Alalia-sky. Plus… Amenea pulled out a small package out of her pocket, wrapped in a scrap of ice blue cloth and tied with a piece of crystal clear, perfectly clean twin; Nenaphe's birthday gift.  
  
Amenea grinned, tucked a strand of white-gold blonde hair behind her ear (how she kept it clean enough for it to be seen that it was such light shade of blonde, even she didn't know.). She smiled as she thought of the slender, blue haired mouse of a girl, Jovia's best friend since they were little. Amenea had met them when Jovia had hidden her from an Elite that had caught her in the act of smuggling stolen jewels to be sold in Alalia- between.  
  
Amenea would have moved in with them, they had all gotten so close, had Amenea not already had a roommate, and had her living location been essential to her…line of work. Amenea glanced at her hourglass watch again with worried cobalt blue eyes. She ran a hand through her bangs, unable to run her hand completely through her tresses due to the top half of her hair being pulled up into a big red bow. The bow was made of some of the finest ribbon Amenea had ever seen; a gift from Marina on Amenea's previous birthday. Amenea was surprised she remembered her own birthday, let alone some one else's.  
  
She seemed to have been remembering a lot of things lately…noticing more things about herself, about her roommate, Radoria…. Of course, Radoria probably knew more about Amenea than Amenea knew about herself! Radoria was a seeress; she could sense someone's aura, could tell if they were honest or not. That was part of the reason Amenea was the most successful smuggler under twenty in Alalia-under; with Radoria's help, she knew who would be honest with her and who would double cross her.  
  
Radoria was beautiful; the only reason she wasn't with child against her will already was that people feared her and her powers- of course, the fact that she was an expert in martial arts didn't hurt, either.  
  
Amenea frowned suddenly. Radoria had been acting a bit odd, lately. Amenea had asked her best friend if she'd seen something in her 'fire readings,' but she had said no… But she walked around and acted as if she had seen something awful. She also seemed have developed a habit of fiddling with the necklace Amenea had given her for a Mid-Summer's gift. It was a pendant made of a golden oval on a cord of red silk (donated by Marina, of course) and with an odd symbol in the center…like a heart upside down and then tipped on it's side, with an arrow coming out of the point of the heart  
  
Nenaphe had identified the symbol as the mark of Mars, god of war and fire. Amenea had blessed her good luck at coming across something that fit her best friend so well. And it had –ahem- 'come' with a semi-matching piece of jewelry, a ring. Only on this one, the heart was upright, and a 't' was attached to it at the bottom point of the heart, in the center of a golden oval. Amenea now pulled it out from under her shirt, as she kept it on a cord of yellow twine; no one in Alalia-under went around wearing rings. Not unless a) they had a least ten armed guards, b) were stupid, or c) you actually wanted to get raped/mugged/murdered; rings were valuable down here. And a lovely little golden thing like the trinket Amenea now held was worth five slaves, at least…  
  
Amenea sighed and glanced at her hourglass again; all the sand was on the right-side compartment. She couldn't afford to wait any longer. She had to drop of her cache for the day at home, and then it was on to her next 'trading' post…  
  
Amenea threw to the barely visible stars above a full-hearted wish that whatever had kept Jovia wasn't too bad, praying to whatever deity that would listen that her friend was all right. Amenea turned, tucking her ring back under her pale yellow wrap around shirt and ducked into the shadows…  
  
And into the arms of a man who jammed a tranquilizer filled needle into the blonde's neck. The man, in the uniform of an Elite, brushed aside a strand of silken hair, looking at her in pity as he slung her over one shoulder, and the black haired witch over his other. He moved out of the shadows and rounded a corner and tossed them into the back of a truck with the two other girls the Council had requested. He then climbed onto the side of the truck alongside his fellow Elite, signaled the driver, and they headed for the exit out of this godforsaken underworld of a place…  
  
  
  
  
  
"What do you mean you refuse, you ungrateful wench?" Lord Altus rose from his seat in anger. Silvra sat across from him, hands clasped in hands so tight against shaking that they were white. Her face was pale, also, her eyes wide as she blinked rapidly in an attempt to hold back tears.  
  
"I'm s-sorry, my lord," Silvra swallowed, resisting the urge to clasp her Crystal for comfort… Wait… maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea…it would remind Altus who she was, whose house he was in, and that she had a right –by law, by her father's permission, and by the priesthood's blessing- to deny any marriage proposal she wished.  
  
Slowly, somehow managing to keep her fearful trembling from her movements, Silvra rose to her feet. She raised her eyes to meet the angrily flashing ones of the fifty-year-old ('eeeeeew….' briefly crossed Silvra's mind.) Lord Altus.  
  
"My lord, your proposal for a four year marriage contract is flattering, and I am truly honored," Silvra resisted the urge to gag; honored her butt! "But I am woe to inform you that I do not believe we would make a good match, politically or financially."  
  
Translation: I wouldn't marry you if you paid me!  
  
Apparently Lord Altus also knew the frank translation of Silvra's politically correct words, and it was also evident by the shaking of his fists that he was barely restraining the urge to strike her. Only her father's personal guard at the door and behind the chair she had been sitting in stayed his hand.  
  
Silvra reached up a barely-not-trembling hand to gently stroke the Monstrahl family Crystal at her throat, the gem glittering under the moonbeams that streamed in through the drapes and glanced off it's surface. Lord Altus gave an outraged roar, snatched his hat from a nearby servant, his cloak from another, and stormed out the door and towards Silvra's father's landing pad, where his transport flier was waiting.  
  
Silvra sank down to her chair, burying her face in her hands. The guard that stood behind her chair dismissed the other guards and servants, so they were alone in the room. The guard, a pitch-black haired man in his early twenties with deep royal blue eyes you could stare into for hours, walked around the chair to kneel before Silvra's chair, his hands on either side of her on the armrests.  
  
Silvra took one look at him and burst into tears. The man pulled Silvra out of her chair and into his arms, kneeling on the plush forest green carpet.  
  
"Why do you do this to yourself, love?" The man stroked Silvra's silken hair, nestling his head on top of hers, between her two twin moons of hair. A curiously pleased emotion at the position rose up in him as Silvra snuggled into his chest.  
  
"I can't…" Silvra sobbed. "I just can't marry him! Or any of them! I just can't!" Silvra sniffed.  
  
"You're father won't be around forever, you know," He told her, rubbing her back soothingly. "Already he grows elderly. You know once he is gone you will have no choice but to marry the first who offers his hand, and that person might not be as well off or as kind as even Altus."  
  
"Altus is not kind, you know it, and I don't care!" She said, pulling her head out from under his to shake for emphasis. She looked up at him. "I will never give my heart, body, or soul to anyone other than whom I am destined to be with, Arden, and you know it!"  
  
"Silvra…" The man, Arden, sighed, his deep eyes alight with affection for the young woman he held in his arms. "Silvra, you must choose someone of noble birth, at least to secure your safety and wellfare."  
  
"And have a kid by a man I don't even like? Let alone love?" She shook her head again. "I refuse to do it for the same reason I do this…" She slipped a hand up his chest, around the back of his neck, and brought his face down to hers. Their mouths met in a gentle, massaging, caressing kiss. Arden's arm snaked tighter around her slip of a waist, his other arm traveling up her back to cradle her head gently. Her hands tangled in his hair as both of them poured all their love and devotion into that one kiss…  
  
Only a voice clearing his throat loudly broke the two apart. Silvra and Arden whipped their heads around, staring in surprised horror at the man who stood in the open doorway. Silvra gasped.  
  
"F-father!"  
  
  
  
4.1.1 To Be Continued…  
  
  
  
  
  
Well, thus ends the first chapter installment of 'Shattered Tapestry.' I've never tried anything like this before, and it is my first Sailor Moon fic, so bear with me and be gentle. Don't worry; you'll know what's going on (if you haven't figured it out already) and why I changed their names hopefully in the next chapter. If not, then at least the third.  
  
Hope you all enjoyed! Ja ne!  
  
  
  
Hope Makes the Universe Shine,  
  
Makura Koneko  
  
  
  
P.S.  
  
For those of you who are rather slow (hey, not an insult; I'm blonde and as slow as slow can get! *sweatdrop* Ask any of my friends!), here are the name conversions:  
  
Serena/Usgai/Sailor Moon = Silvra (short for Faesilvria: German for silver light)  
  
Darien/Mamoru/Tuxedo Mask = Arden (German for Earth/Earthen)  
  
Ami/Amy/Mercury = Nephane (Water in either Italian or French, or something like that…)  
  
Rei/Raye/Mars = Rodica (original)  
  
Makoto/Lita/Jupiter = Jovia (I think we all know where that comes from)  
  
Minako/Mina/Venus = Ameana (modified version of Swedish word for 'love.')  
  
Hotaru/Saturn = Shinkana (Japanese for 'silence.')  
  
Michiru/Michelle/Neptune = Marina (duh)  
  
Haruka/Amara/Uranus = Vrida (German for 'wind.')  
  
That's it! E-mail/review if you have any questions! Ja!  
  
-Makura Koneko  
  
  
  
  
  
ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY 


	3. Chapter Two

1 Shattered Tapestry  
  
2 By Makura Koneko  
  
  
  
2.1 Chapter Two  
  
  
  
  
  
"Where the hades are we going and what the double-hades happened?" Jovia was positively livid as she wrestled with her restrains, course rope securing her hands behind her back and her ankles out in front of her. She was leaning against the side of the spotlessly room that –from the rocking and jerking- Jovia guessed was the trunk of a truck. A single light in the ceiling swayed and swung, casing eerie, ever changing shadows over them all.  
  
"If I knew that I would have told you," Rodica snapped.  
  
"Guess, stop it!" Nenaphe said briskly. "Rodie, you know Jovia wasn't directing that at you. Don't take it as an insult to your foresight."  
  
"But she's right," Amenea sighed. "Jovia, I mean," She added. "What happened, and where are we going?"  
  
"I personally, would also like to know 'why." Nenaphe said, frowning, deep in thought. "And why us?"  
  
"Guys…" Amenea bit her lip. "If this is connected to…to my…line of work, then… God, then I'm so sorry!"  
  
"It's okay, Amenea," Jovia said, calm now. She tipped her head back and rested it against the metal side of the interior of…whatever it was they were in. It was barely seven feet long and five feet wide, and only four feet high.  
  
"Hey, it's not her fault!" Rodica snapped, glaring at the brunette, whose head snapped up to glare Rodica with a snarl.  
  
"While we appreciate your concerns and apologies Amenea," Nenaphe cut in. "I doubt this is at all your fault. If this is related to your…dealings, then why are we the only prisoners?"  
  
"There might be others," Rodica pointed out. "In other transport vehicles."  
  
"But then why were we grouped together?" Nenaphe raised an eyebrow. "That is a bit too much of a coincidence."  
  
"Maybe they know we're the closest to Amenea," Jovia shrugged. Again Nenaphe shook her head.  
  
"These are the Elite we're dealing with." Nenaphe stated the obvious. "While they may be a nuisance to our only means of survival in Alalia- under, they are not evil, and they are most certainly not stupid. If they do indeed know us as the closest ones to Amena, then they would most likely assume we are the ringleaders in whatever theft or smuggling operation they're arresting us for. They wouldn't put the leaders together in the same place, out of common sense. Think about it. If you had the leaders of a group you wanted to shut down, when you captured them, would you give them a chance to accumulate a plan of retreat or escape?"  
  
"The mouse has a point," Rodica said after a moment. In typical gentle Nenaphe fashion, she was not offended by the comparison Rodica made of her and a rodent.  
  
"Well, that rules out one speculation as to why we're here," Rodica said after a moment of thoughtful silence that was shared by all present. "But that still leaves the question of why we were taken in the first place."  
  
Further speculation and conversation was prevented by the abrupt jerking and slamming and yanking around of the cargo area they were being kept in. Amena slammed into Nenaphe, and Jovia barely moved her head out of the way of Rodica's bound feet, which had flown up as she tipped over.  
  
Just as suddenly as the chaos had been raised, it stopped. The doors, to Rodica's left and Nenaphe's–who was sitting across from Rodica- right, were rattled and the sounds of jangling chains was heard.  
  
"Guys…" Amenea swallowed. "I don't know why we're here, but as for where we've been going… I think we're about to find out…."  
  
  
  
  
  
Silvra swallowed hard and lifted her chin, clearly revealing the Monstrahl family Crystal in the hollow of her throat, shimmering in all its glory under the moonlight. Silvra, surrounded by eight guards –those eight guards not including Captain Arden Terrence- was escorted to her family's main landing pad that extended from the building she lived in near the top of their family's personal Sky Tower, the Monstrahl Tower.  
  
Silvra felt for sure that her father, after seeing her beloved Arden and herself in such a compromising position (kneeling together on the floor, arms wrapped around each other, locked in a soul-searing kiss…), was shipping her off to some suitor to be married on the spot. Probably in hopes of preventing such 'outrageous' occurrences from happening again.  
  
Faersilvria Monstrahl, youngest lady of the High House of Monstrahl, was met by her mother, her eldest sister, and Silvra's personal maid and best friend, Shinkana, at the foot of the boarding ramp that led into the underbelly of the grand cruise vessel, the Valiant.  
  
Silvra's mother, the lovely Caressmiya, was stiff-backed, her face pale and drawn in what young, innocent Silvra was sure to be barely restrained rage. Silvra swallowed yet again, as if trying to wet her parched throat at the same time trying to swallow her fear. It didn't work.  
  
"My lady mother," Silvra, her high, sweet voice shaky. She tightened her jaw to keep her lower lip from trembling. She bobbed a slight curtsey. When she rose, Caressmiya reached out and touched her daughter's cheek, gently. Her face softened slightly, then hardened again when she spotted the gleaming silver Crystal at her throat. She stiffened noticeably, and before Silvra could react, her mother snatched it from her throat. The chain, before snapping, sliced a deep gouge into the back of Silvra's neck, bringing tears to her eyes as her hand flew up to where her crystal had once lain.  
  
"You may no longer bear the house Crystal," Caressmiya said stiffly. Did Silvra detect a hint of…regret in her mother's voice? She dared not hope…  
  
"It is family law that the Crystal remain in possession of the family and stay here at the Monstrahl Tower. You, my child, will not be returning for quite some time, if ever. Therefore I strip you of it. It is no longer your responsibility nor privilege. I, mistress of the House of Monstrahl, deem this so." It was a harsher variation of the verbal part of the ceremony that was used when the crystal went to a new female member of the family.  
  
Silvra's throat tightened again, and tears welled up in her eyes. She did not make any attempt to stopper them; she knew what was about to happen next.  
  
Cordaylae, Silvra's eldest sister, smirked with pride and arrogance in all her dark colored beauty –raven hair, the deepest hazel eyes, porcelain skin- as Caressmiya turned to her firstborn and raised the Crystal up before her face. Cordaylae raised her palm, and Caressmiya set it in her hand. Cordaylae clasped her fist around it, smirking at her youngest sister all the while. Of all Silvra's family, Cordaylae was the most spiteful.  
  
"I accept this honor and responsibility, my lady mother," Cordaylae said with great pomp, even though the only witnesses were her own sister and mother, a maid, and eight guards. She cupped the crystal on the broken chain in both hands and held it out slowly, so that the moonlight, high overhead, reflected off it's shimmering surface. Everyone held his or her breath for the breathtakingly brilliant shine that was to come, signaling the crystal's acceptance of its new bearer.  
  
It never came.  
  
Whatsmore, after the first few seconds of moonlight exposure, it seemed only to dull, until it looked to be no more than a simple, cheap glass stone.  
  
Even Caressmiya could not ignore the meaning of not only the Crystal's refusal to glow in it's new mistress's hands, but also the meaning of it's continuing dulling to plainness. She drew in a deep breath through her nose, and exhaled slowly through her mouth.  
  
"Give the Crystal back to your sister, Cordaylae," Caressmiya said, her voice tight and sharp. "It has deemed you unworthy."  
  
"Worthless cobbler's junk!" Cordaylae, in her rage, flung the Crystal at Silvra's feet. Caressmiya cried out; surely it would shatter! She mourned the loss of her husband's mother's prized possession…  
  
But the Crystal simply bounced to a tinkling stop at Silvra's feet. Silvra, her silver skirts of the same dress she'd worn to see Altus, pooled around her like liquid silver as she bent over and scooped it up, cradling it to her bosom protectively.  
  
Everyone gasped as light flared from within Silvra's hands. Silvra abruptly pulled her hands away from her self, holding her hands out; the Crystal cupped in her palms. It flashed brightly, once, like a spiraling silver and cream and pale gold starburst.  
  
Then it was done, and Cordaylae stormed off the landing pad, down the catwalk and back into the Tower.  
  
"It seems tradition must be broken," Caressmiya said quietly. But the low volume of her words spoke multitudes, and Silvra trembled. She looked her youngest daughter in the eye.  
  
"You shall return in one year, to attend the Monstrahl gala, and there you will relinquish what ever spell you have cast to keep the Crystal to yourself, do you hear?" Caressmiya's tone was harsh and sharp.  
  
Translation: Find a way to make the Crystal glow in the hands of one of your sisters, so one of them can have it, or else!  
  
Silvra swallowed.  
  
"Yes, my lady mother," Silvra loved her mother too much to argue, plus it was simply not in her nature to do so, unless someone –someone other than herself- was truly being wronged.  
  
"Shinkana, you will accompany your mistress, then upon her safe arrival to her destination you will to see to her comfort for one week, then return here where you will be put in the service of Lady Cordaylae, is that clear?"  
  
"Yes, my lady mistress," Shinkana bowed low. Only ladies curtseyed, and by social status, Kana was not a lady.  
  
"Behave yourself, and do not shame our family further." Caressmiya would have venomously hissed the statement, had she not been a lady of poise and raised among politicians. She very well aware that where her daughter was going, despite the purpose for her going and the reason, she may very well obtain a very influential husband. Should that happen, Caressmiya hoped to avoid future catastrophe for the Monstrahls should Silvra's imagined husband decide to take revenge. She loved her daughter, honest, she did. But for her to be so easily mislead as to consort with…with a common born…  
  
It was only lucky that Captain Terrence was at least quite wealthy. If he had been poor and common, she and her husband would have surely disowned her!  
  
But Caressmiya was saved from that, and she stroked the tear-wetted cheek of her youngest child before passing her, and, not looking back, returning to her rooms in the Tower.  
  
"My lady," A servant had come out of the Valiant and was kneeling before her, the same way the servant that had notified her of Altus's presence had.  
  
"Yes?" Silvra sniffed, wiping her eyes, acknowledging his presence and thus giving him permission to speak.  
  
"My lady, the Captain of your father's vessel bid me inform you that we are ready to liftoff."  
  
"Tell him I'm getting on now," Silvra sniffed.  
  
"Tell your Pilot we are preparing to board presently," Kana gave the proper wording to the servant, knowing her mistress was too distraught to think up and say the right words. The servant, looking up long enough to nod at the handmaiden, murmured the proper phrase, and backed up the ramp.  
  
Kana gave her friend a one armed hug around the shoulders, using the cuff of her sleeve to wipe Silvra's eyes. She then, squeezing Silvra's arm reassuringly, guided her up the ramp and onto the Valiant.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Jovia, stop!" Nenaphe hissed. Jovia, still struggling against her bonds and her captor, who had his arms around her and was struggling to half drag half shove her down the corridor, paused only long enough to glare at Nenaphe.  
  
"I can't believe your letting these oafs herd us!" Jovia lashed out again with one un-bound foot; they had been untied to allow them to walk. In front of Jovia, Nenaphe, Rodica, and Amenea walked obediently, though Jovia could see all three of them eyeing their surroundings, keeping an eye out for any possible escape that should present itself.  
  
Jovia, on the other hand, was not content to simply keep watch for a blessed opportunity; she made her own opportunities.  
  
"Jovia, you either calm down and quit making things worse before you end up unconscious and with a black eye, or I swear, once we get out of this I'll give you two black eyes and a broken arm to go with it!" Rodica snapped over her shoulder. Jovia, snarling –at Rodica or her sweating, panting captor, she didn't know- reluctantly saw the logic in this (the making things worse part, not the double black eye and broken bone). Stiff, growling, and watchful, she calmed down enough so that the young Elite that'd had her in a hurtlock only needed to keep a strong grip on her arm, the same grip that held the other three.  
  
"I know it isn't my place to ask such things," Nenaphe began a moment later. "But may I inquire as to the reason for our abduction?"  
  
"You speak well for a grundge." The officer who held Amenea said. Amenea's eyes flashed and she elbowed him soundly. In a flash the Elite holding Rodica and Nenaphe drew blasters and pointed them at the blonde, who retaliated by stick out her tongue and crossing her eyes.  
  
"No one calls my friend a…a…that horrible word." Amenea settled when she couldn't bring herself to actually say it.  
  
"Whatever, doll," The same officer sneered. Rodica's nostrils flared, and she took a firm step towards him. Nenaphe held out her arm to block Rodica's path even as Rodica's holder tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her back, her eyes wild and enraged.  
  
"Be glad we're in a generous mood," Jovia growled. "Else you'd be nothing but a sticky mess under my foot." Jovia spat at the one who held Nenaphe, the one who'd used the offensive word and sneered at Amenea. He only laughed obnoxiously. The others remained silent, though the one holding Amenea seemed to have an amused twinkle in his eye…like he knew something that the younger, laughing officer did not.  
  
It was then that Jovia realized that, unlike what she had expected, they were walking down a spotlessly clean, plush carpeted, art-covered-walled corridor, not some stone, gunk covered tunnel leading down to a nightmarish 'questing room' then eternal darkness in a tiny cell…  
  
"She asked you a question, and you have yet to answer," Jovia said lowly, in a darkly dangerous tone. The oldest, clearly higher-ranking officer, as he had a gold hilted saber sword at his side, the one holding Amenea, glanced at her. There was something akin to respect for a fellow fighter in his glance, something that made Jovia make a mental note to just leave him unconscious and not a bloody pulp when she broke free.  
  
"That she did, and t'would be rude of us to decline to provide an answer," The ranking officer nodded to Nenaphe. "But I'm afraid we're under orders to tell you nothing beyond that you are safe and will not be harmed."  
  
Rodica couldn't help it; she laughed. A short, scorning, pitying laugh. "And we're supposed to believe that?" She sniffed. "Get a reality check. Just because we're 'grudges' and female doesn't mean we're idiots. If you didn't plan on doing something perverted or cruel or inhuman, you would have kidnapped us like criminals on the run."  
  
"Watch your mouth, wench," Rodica's holder snapped. Rodica fixed him with a look that suddenly had him sweating…that was a look of someone who had seen more pain and suffering than even a god of suffering should see. It was the look of someone who could burn you alive just by thinking about you, someone who knew your deepest secrets, who could see right through your very flesh and blood to your soul.  
  
Suffice to say, it was very unnerving.  
  
Rodica, deciding to spare the man, looked away, her eyes flitting back to normal.  
  
"Witch," The officer with a grip like a vice on Jovia's arm made the sign against evil. Jovia fixed him with a falsely sweet smile.  
  
"What do you think that makes us?" She said in a mischievous voice. He swallowed. Hard. His grip on her arm became fearful, as if afraid by touching her he had contracted a painful curse. Amenea saw this exchange and giggled. She and Jovia exchanged winks.  
  
All the while they had never stopped their quick pace down the seemingly endless corridor. They passed several '+' crossings, many turn off hallways, and countless double and single doors that doubtlessly led into conference rooms or offices.  
  
After what seemed like forever, they came to one of the smaller turn off hallways, and turned off the main corridor and into it. It wasn't as well lit; the carpet wasn't as fine, but still soft and 'cushy' to the callused bare feet of the four women. Had they not been so stiff and cramped from being all bottled up in the transport vehicle, they would have been sore from all the walking by then.  
  
"You, in there," The Elite officer that held Rodica's arm opened up a door that was on the right side of the hallway and motioned for her to enter. She glared at him.  
  
"Maybe you didn't hear me when I said just because we're- ouch!" Nenaphe's captor gave Rodica a boot in the butt and Rodica went stumbling into the room, screeching obscenities and curses even as her former holder scrambled to close and lock the door.  
  
"Bakayaro!" Jovia snarled, "Rei!" Her mind called after Rodica. Who knew what awaited her in there! All four Elite, including Nenaphe and Amenea, gave her odd looks as she lunged forward. Rodica's former captor hopped back, returning the glare; these men weren't called the 'Elite' for nothing.  
  
When she was forced to calm down as a result of their moving again and pointed looks from Nenaphe, Jovia realized she'd done it again… She'd called Rodica 'Rei' and the Elite 'bakayaros…' whatever that word meant… Whatever it meant, she had the distinct feeling that not only was the meaning not all that flattering, but that she had used it many times before…  
  
Jovia shook her head, causing her loosely tied back, dirty dark brown hair to come loose from the battered ribbon that had previously held her locks away from her face.  
  
What was wrong with her?  
  
She was prevented from pondering this question, however, when they came to a second door, not all that far down from the first, only on the left side of the hallway.  
  
The Elite that had been Rodica's holder unlocked the door and opened it, and Amenea, before she knew what was happening, was shoved inside. She gave an indignant yowl as she tripped over her own feet and landed in a messy tangle. The Elite laughed and closed and locked the door just in time to prevent Amenea from barreling out. A whine of pain was heard as something big slammed into the door just as it closed.  
  
Jovia and Nenaphe called out in surprise and concern.  
  
"Don't worry, she'll be fine," The ranking Elite shook his head. "Come along. Your own suites await."  
  
"Mina…" Jovia didn't bother to fight this time, only rage at herself…. Why was she calling her best friends by alien names???? And what's more, why did the names feel so…appropriate? Like she'd called them that before? She'd never heard those names in her life!  
  
…Had she?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"My lord, they have been placed in their assigned suites with personal handmaidens to assist them in the conference." Had any one of the four girls been present, they would have recognized the speaker as the Elite Captain that had held Amenea. Now, the same man bowed low to another man standing at a window.  
  
The man at the window turned. The light of the new dawn lit up his handsome features, making his shoulder length bright red hair shine. His dark red eyes smiled slightly.  
  
"And Lady Monstrahl?" The man asked. "What news of her, Captain Trippar?"  
  
"My Lady Faesilvria Monstrahl should be arriving momentarily, my lord." Captain Trippar informed him.  
  
"Excellent," The red eyed man set down his glass of a brandy-like drink and regarded the rising sun with reverence.  
  
"Beautiful, is it not?"  
  
"Aye, it is, my lord Asinus," The Captain agreed with a small smile. "It is."  
  
"Please, Trippar, let's not be so formal. Rubar, please." 'Rubar' said to Trippar. Captain Trippar nodded.  
  
"Thank you, my lor- er, Rubar."  
  
"Don't worry," Rubar was smiling. "I know it will take some getting used to. Now, did you have much trouble with the girls?"  
  
"One of them, a brunette, made us fight to earn our bread today, Rubar, but the rest were cooperative enough, but they were as wary as suspicious cats and as fierce as the brown head when they wanted to be, no doubt."  
  
"No doubt…" Rubar smiled and lifted his brandy glass again.  
  
"Rubar, may I speak freely, old friend?" Trippar asked after a moment.  
  
"Hm? Oh, yes, of course, go right ahead," Rubar told him sipping again.  
  
"Rubar, I just have to warn you…if these girls aren't who we think they are…they'll be hell to pay." Trippar was blunt enough, and Rubar grinned wryly.  
  
"'Tis true, Captain," Rubar set his glass down again and leaned against one of the pillars that separated two windows, crossing his arms over his chest casually. "But I am rarely wrong. These girls are the ones who will restore the Elite to their proper position."  
  
"Sir, there is a reason the Elite have been going down in popularity," the Captain said. "The new ones are cocky, proud, spiteful. They are taught the Ways but they do not heed them. Their DNA similarity count to the Senshi is only twenty, at most. Time was it had to be at least forty for you to even be able to test for the Elite cadet academy."  
  
"Times change, Trippar."  
  
"Yes, they do, but the people count on us not to change with it! To always protect those in need, regardless of the danger!" Trippar scowled. "We have a bad name, now. Even with the rich folk. The youngest of us are too power hungry to be trusted, and everyone knows it. If we don't start to tighten the rein, it won't matter how many direct descendants of the Senshi themselves you find, Rubar, you will have a revolution on your hands."  
  
"I know," Rubar surprised Trippar with his agreement. "I know and I have only recently been able to convince the council of what you've just told me. They've agreed to begin…relieving certain officers of their duties. Permanently. But not till we have a…spokesperson, a figurehead, and a powerful one, to back us up. If we don't, Trippar, we very might have, instead of a peasant protesting that would be potentially nasty, we would have an Elite civil war. My preference between the two is obvious, of course."  
  
"Of course," Trippar grinned slightly. "And you think one of these girls might be that figurehead?"  
  
"Oh, no, my friend," Rubar drowned the last of the brandy. "They'll simply be the personal guards of the figurehead."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Amenea whimpered in exaggerated pain as she cradled her bruised elbow, an angry pout on her face. She pulled herself to her feet from her slumped position against the door, wincing as she did so; throwing yourself at steel enforced doors was not fun.  
  
Amenea whirled, forgetting the pain in her elbow, eyes wide and her entire body automatically going into the habitual defense mode essential for survival in Alalia-under. The cause of this reaction was a small, amused, slightly superior sounding giggle.  
  
Amenea's eyes widened when she saw, across the –breathtakingly decorated- large room, apparently some sort of sitting/living room, a young girl of no more than thirteen versus Amenea's sixteen. Her hair was cropped short in the manner reserved for servants, though this servant wore a gold headband, signaling that she was a servant to a wealthy person/organization.  
  
"Welcome to the Headquarters, Miss Harte," The girl said in an innocent voice and bowed slightly. Amenea blinked. They knew her last name? Hardly anyone in Alalia-under even had a last name…  
  
"H-Headquarters?" Amenea swallowed, unconsciously rising up out of her fighter's stance. The girl smiled.  
  
"You are in the West Tower, the tower that houses guests and extra rooms, of the Elite Headquarters in Alalia."  
  
"Alalia-sky, you mean," Amenea translated silently. "Those that live in Alalia-sky consider it the only Alalia worth mentioning; they deny the existence of Alalia-below and even Alalia-between…"  
  
"Why am I here?" Amenea asked, her voice gentle, but ever so slightly cautious. "Who are you? Why are my friends here? What are you doing here?" The girl fidgeted.  
  
"I'm sorry, Miss Harte," She said apologetically. "But I'm not allowed to tell you anything other than-"  
  
"I'm safe and I won't be harmed," Amenea sighed. "Yeah, they already said that."  
  
"As for who I am, Miss, you may call me Yadima." The girl bowed again. Amenea discovered she liked the respectful attention. "And your friends have been escorted to their own suites similar to yours," she motioned to the room around her. "And have been assigned their own maids to help them wash and prepare."  
  
"Wash and prepare? For what?"  
  
"For meeting with the-" Yadima clapped a hand over her mouth. "I…I've said to much, miss…" She swallowed. "Please, I beg of you, do not tell anyone of the words I have just spoken. They will have my hide on the whipping block!"  
  
"Don't worry, kiddo, your secret is safe with me," Amenea said kindly, putting on hand over her heart and raising her other hand as if making a promise, which, actually, she was. She winced as she lowered her arm once more, and, glancing at her elbow, grimaced at the large purple bruise that was forming.  
  
"Let's get that fixed, shall we?" Yadima offered shyly. "A hot bath and some soap and antiseptics should do it. And I believe I have permission to use the Knitter to heal any wounds you may have."  
  
"Knitter?" Amenea blinked, as did Yadima, only in surprise.  
  
"You do not know what a Knitter is?" She asked, surprised. Again, she clasped a hand over her mouth, promptly bowing low. "Forgive me, miss, for my insolent comment."  
  
"Hey, it's okay!" Amenea laughed. "I don't know what a Knitter is. Never heard of one. You want to show me?"  
  
"Perhaps miss would like a bath, first?" She offered in an inoffensive way. Amenea looked at her unwashed self, dirty, speckled with bruises, wearing pants that were two sizes two big and torn off at mid shin, held up with a length of rope, and a length of sallow yellow cloth wrapped around her bosom.  
  
"Yeah, perhaps," Amenea laughed, and let Yadima lead her into a separate room.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Holy mother of the moon…" Rodica gave an oath she had never used before and had no idea where it came from as she looked in stunned awe at the massive room she now stood in the entrance of.  
  
To her right, on a two foot high dais, with the head against the massive, arched window, was a bed seven feet across and at least eight feet long. It was made of intricately carved and polished deep red cherry wood, and the four posts at each corner of the bed rose twelve feet high to support a redwood lattice. The lattice was hung with red and white and purple crystals, transparent burgundy drapes looped and swung through and around the edge of the lattice.  
  
Straight across from her was a huge mirror, reflecting her dirty and disheveled appearance; greasy, tangled raven hair, dark brown skin, skinny form clad in the tattered remains of a dark gray dress tied with a red ribbon under her bosom.  
  
"Look up there, miss," Mansidi, the little serving girl that had greeted Rodica upon her, er, 'entrance' to the red and violet decorated sitting room, touched Rodica's wrist and pointed upwards.  
  
"Sight beyond sights…" Rodica breathed a familiar oath this time at the sight she met when she tilted her head back to look at the ceiling. At least thirty feet high, surrounded by a thick dark crown molding, was a mural painted on the ceiling. It was of a red haired woman, with an immense sadness in her eyes, holding a sword and standing amidst the remains of a crumbling fortress, or castle. At her foot was a single blood red rose.  
  
Rodica gave a cry and stumbled, falling to one knee.  
  
"Miss? Miss Raptor? Miss?" Mansidi was beside herself with worry as Rodica clutched her temples, sweat dripping onto her closed eyelids, her jaw clenched. Out of her dress fell the gift Mina had given her…the symbol of Mars on a golden oval…  
  
Wait a moment…who was Mina? Amenea had given her the amulet…  
  
Before Rodica could contemplate this –for it was not the first time the name 'Mina' had come to mind- déjà vu so strong it made her nauseous overcame her… And the source, she knew, was the mural high above her…that scene…standing among the ruins of a home you'd fought to protect…the sword…the rose…even the hair…  
  
It was all so familiar it scared Rodica. And Rodica was not easily scared.  
  
But it passed quickly, and Rodica, hiding her shaking limbs, tucked the amulet back under her dress neckline, stood, swallowed harshly, and forced a smile for the panicked Mansidi.  
  
"Low blood sugar," Rodica managed to fish out a suitable excuse for the girl. Mansidi's expression immediately turned to that of pathetic relief.  
  
"Oh, is that all, miss?" Mansidi tried to sound adult. "I shall fetch you some sweets to remedy that once I have helped you with your bath."  
  
"My bath?" Rodica blinked, the déjà vu already retreating to the back of her mind for later examination.  
  
Mansidi, smiling, took Rodica's hand gently and guided her into yet another room that led off the bedroom. It was big, not as big as the bedroom, but bigger than Rodica and Amenea's entire living place in Alalia-under.  
  
On the far side, taking up half the room, was what could only be described as a small pool. Against the wall, pouring scented water into the pool, was a fountain made to look like dancing fire. The water sprouted out of the tip of the rose quartz carved flames and arched to land in the pool halfway across.  
  
Rodica's déjà vu was forgotten.  
  
For the moment.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Come, miss, in here," Kasanai, a small girl-child of no more than ten years old guided a fascinated, awe struck Nenaphe -who couldn't take her eyes off the beautiful 'bath' with the lovely mermaid fountain the center of the pool- to a place behind a changing screen. It was decorated with the scene of a setting sun on the ocean horizon. There, as directed, Nenaphe undressed and donned a silk, almost sheer pale blue robe.  
  
Nenaphe, after slipping into the robe and tying it about her tiny waist, kneeled and fished around in her pockets for the little thing Amenea had slipped into her hands when they had been dragged out of the truck…  
  
She found it, and her eyes widened. A small package wrapped in cloth and white twine. She untied the twine, and the folds of cloth fell away, revealing, in Nenaphe's palm, something that made her eyes widen and her mouth open in a small 'o' of surprise.  
  
A pen, it was, and a fine pen at that, something the likes of which Nenaphe had only seen once, when Jovia had stolen gold fountain pen to trade with Mina- Nenaphe shook her head. Who was Mina? Jovia had sold the pen Amenea, whom in turn probably sold it to some skytowner.  
  
But this pen…this one seemed to shine from within. It was a pale, pale ice silver blue. There was a ring of cobalt blue around the base of the point of the pen, around the middle, and around the top. But what really caught Nenaphe's eye was that at the top of the pen was a most peculiar emblem; a squat heart with a 't' underneath the heart, the top of the 't' attached to the bottom point of the heart. On the top of the heart, sunk into the dip of the heart was an upside down 'v.' It was on a background of a golden oval hoop.  
  
Memory tickled Nenaphe's mind…and it took her a moment before she managed to grasp what was nagging her; it was the symbol of Hermes, God of the written arts, cleverness, ice, and speed.  
  
Strung through a special hole at the top of the emblem was a string, which Nenaphe used to tie the pen on the inside of her robe, rather than put it back in her skirt pocket; she had a suspicion that if they planned to give her new clothing –which she suspected they did- that they (whoever 'they' was) would probably do away with her scraps of clothing.  
  
Nenaphe stepped out from behind the changing screen, feeling the cold metal of her pen against her flat, hollow belly, and smiled shyly at Kasanai, who guided her to the edge of the pool, where there were steps leading down into the warm, rain scented water.  
  
Without warning, Kasanai yanked the loose end of the cord that tied the robe to Nenaphe, unraveling it, and yanked the robe of Nenaphe, leaving her naked. The pen went with the robe, but, luckily, Kasanai didn't seen to notice as she laid it over a chair.  
  
"Into the water, miss!" Kasanai urged, and Nenaphe needed no further prodding, practically leaping into the water in an effort to hide her nakedness.  
  
"Over here, if you will, miss," Nenaphe hardly heard Kasanai, she was so enshrouded in bliss. Surely it wasn't healthy that simply being surrounded by water was this pleasurable… Nenaphe had always loved water, yes, but this…this was pure ecstasy as she felt the soap and scent and anti-germy stuff in the water begin to eat away at sixteen years of grime and dirt and sewer living.  
  
But, hear Kasanai she did, and Nenaphe half water-hopped half swimmed to the end of the pool, where there was a water proof, cushioned seat that was high enough for Nenaphe to lean her head back into a special, smooth, arch indention in the edge of the pool. Nenaphe hopped up into it, and Kasanai guided her head back into the specially shaped impression; her head and neck fit perfectly into the cushioned surface. It all fell into place so that the top of Nenaphe's head was above a small basin in the floor, filled with more warm, scented water.  
  
Nenaphe was surprised, but pleased when she felt Kasanai pour warm water over her head, wetting her filthy black locks thoroughly. Nenaphe sighed with relaxing bliss when Kasanai began to massage scented soaps and shampoos and conditioners into Nenaphe's scalp, soaking her hair in special treatment creams and working the soap in the hair into a lush lather.  
  
Again Nenaphe's hair was rinsed, then again it was washed and scrubbed, this time with anti-insect and parasite formulas that smelled unpleasant, but the rinsing and third, lavender scented shampooing that came after was worth it.  
  
When that was done and Nenaphe's hair was left to soak in the conditioning solution Kasanai had worked into her hair and scalp, Kasanai handed Nenaphe a bar of fragrant soap and a soft wash cloth. Nenaphe began to bathe herself, sitting up while she did so, scrubbing ever inch of her body. Had she been in a smaller tub, it was quite obvious that the water would have been murky and opaque before she'd even been half done.  
  
As it was, Nenaphe used up half the bar of soap and permanently stained the cloth from white to pale brown before Kasanai had Nenaphe put her head back again for a final rinsing.  
  
When that was done, Nenaphe accepted a new cloth, used up the other half of the soap bar, scrubbing till her skin was raw and pink. Then came some moisturizing body wash Kasanai insisted she use. After half the bottle was used to thoroughly cleanse and moisturize every pore in her body, Nenaphe swam laps from one end of the pool to the other, reveling in the sensation of being clean.  
  
Only when Nenaphe's skin began to prune to the extent that she was beginning to loose decent feeling in her fingertips did she let Kasanai give her a hand up out of the pool. Nenaphe was, luckily, no longer embarrassed to the point of going completely red at being naked in front of the girl-child. Granted, her sense of modesty still rendered her uncomfortable, but she no longer wished the ground would open up and swallow her.  
  
Kasanai helped Nenaphe get thoroughly towel dried before helping her slip on the pale blue robe. Again, Kasanai somehow didn't notice the ice blue pen as she tied the cord around Nenaphe's waist.  
  
Nenaphe sat at Kasanai's insistence before a large vanity, and blinked in surprise at her reflection; this was the first time she had seen herself –all of herself, at least, more than half her face at a time- in the same glance. She touched her pale white skin, blinked deep cobalt blue eyes, and touched dripping wet black hair.  
  
Kasanai, smiling in amusement, lifted a hair blow drier and scissors and set to trimming and blow drying Nenaphe's hair.  
  
When it was done, it was seen, to both Nenaphe's and Kasanai's extreme surprise, that Nenaphe had blue, deep blue, natural blue highlights! Her hair was actually a blue so dark it was black!  
  
As Nenaphe touched her satin soft, earlobe length locks in awe, she wondered what Lita was- Lita?  
  
Nenaphe blinked and shook her head as if to clear it. Who was Lita?  
  
Wait, hadn't that been what she had called Jovia in the sewer tunnel when the Elite had captured her? She hadn't realized, or at least hadn't had time to ponder the odd act at that time, but now…  
  
Why had she called Jovia 'Lita?'  
  
It didn't make sense…  
  
Nenaphe shook her head again.  
  
She hoped Jovia and Rodica and Amenea were all okay…  
  
She also wondered in amusement, remembering the length of the other girls' tresses, how long it had taken, if they had been given the same treatment as her, for their hair to be dried!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Ouch!" Jovia cried, scowling at the girl in the mirror, who was brushing out her hip length, wet, thoroughly washed and scrubbed hair.  
  
"Sorry, miss," The girl audibly suppressed sigh. Jovia scowled. Why hadn't the kid thought to brush her hair before she washed it? They'd never get out all the tangles!  
  
Despite yowls of exaggerated pain and curses and half-hearted apologies, Jovia's hair lay smoothly down her back. The edge sections that had already begun to dry into strands of spun chocolate were showing signs of soft curling waves.  
  
The handmaiden girl, Geniva, picked up a hair blow drier and began to softly heat the wet strands. The water clinging to each hair evaporated under the heat, leaving Jovia's hair long and soft and fluffy until Geniva took a brush, the bristles coated with an anti-frizz compound, and brushed her hair again.  
  
Geniva then set to styling it, picking up a hair curler and opening a drawer in the small mini, foot tall dresser that was on the right of the vanity/dresser that Jovia was sitting at. It was full of jeweled bobby pins and hair ties.  
  
"Nu-uh, no way, I'm not sitting through that sort of torture," Jovia shook her head fiercely, then took the hair curler from Geniva's hands and put it down, then selected for herself a green hair elastic. Picking up a gold plated brush, she swept her hair up into a high, smooth ponytail, leaving her newly cut bangs free along with two thick tendrils, one in front of each ear, to wave down to her breasts.  
  
She secured her hair with the hair elastic, and allowed Geniva to stick into two pins, the pins have one huge green marble on the end of each. Geniva brushed out the ponytail, which went to Jovia's mid back, before declaring it done, if under-fancy.  
  
"Everybody has their own preferences," Jovia said, biting back the more stinging words she had wanted to use for the sake of Geniva only being a child.  
  
Refreshed, her skin and scalp still tingling from the sensation of being free, Geniva led Jovia under a tall, arched doorway that proved to be the entrance to a huge dressing room. But despite its size, there weren't all that many things in there. At least, for a rich person. For Jovia, it was more clothing than she'd ever seen in one place in her whole life.  
  
There was what could only be a ball gown, in the deepest hunter green, trimmed with cream lace. Some sort of uniform, casual, and another uniform, more formal. Next to those were a few shirts, skirts, shorts, pants, jackets, blouses, and a few casual dresses. There were shoes on the floor, and even a hat or two on a shelf. In the middle of the room was a round section of the floor that had been raised to about three feet high. There was a step or two next to for easier ascending.  
  
Geniva motioned for Jovia to mount the mini-stage, which Jovia did with some caution. Once she stood, Geniva surprised her by snatching away her rose pink robe. Jovia cried out in surprise, snapping curses and oaths as she tried to cover herself with one hand and hide her amulet in her other. Geniva didn't notice either action, though, and proceeded to pull a pair of underwear and a bra out of a drawer. She handed them to Jovia –who discovered both garments to be silk- and quickly put them on, not thinking to check for poisonous creams or powders.  
  
Geniva then selected a pair of fitting, hip-hugging pants in dark brown leather, well worked so that they were soft and malleable. Jovia slipped them on; they fit perfect, and they were wonderful for easy maneuvering, and low enough –an inch or two below her belly button- that they allowed her to bend over enough to touch her toes. Jovia leaned back up from testing this for herself when Geniva tapped her on the shoulder and silently handed her a dark forest green, sparkling shirt made out of a 'slinky' material. Jovia slipped it on and discovered the neckline to be that of a low 'v.'  
  
The 'v' of the neckline was gathered and scrunched at the bottom of the 'v,' as if it had originally been a square neckline, then someone had grabbed it in the middle and pulled it down, gathering material as it did so. It was clipped with a disk that was covered in the same material as the shirt.  
  
The sleeves were full, and took up enough material on their own to make a skirt. They flowed and swished with her movements, like a dancer's skirt, and went down to her elbows. They were slit on the outside of the sleeve, clear up to her shoulders.  
  
Jovia sat down on the edge of dais, and Geniva mutely handed her warm socks and well made black boots, which Jovia quickly donned and laced up tight.  
  
When that was done, Geniva had her sit still while she put a light, scented powder on her face, took a lip liner pencil to her lips, mascara to her eyelashes, and added apple flavored lip gloss.  
  
For the final touch, something that Geniva said was a necessity, Jovia flung a deep hunter green, nearly black, full length, full cape/cloak behind her, clasping it to her shirt. The cloak was made of a light, gauzy material and hardly weighed a thing. A light gold chain ran from the cape's right clasp down across her torso to Jovia's left hip, where it was pinned to her pants, out of sight.  
  
Gold pearl stud earrings, a simple gold ring with three gold pearls, one in the middle and two smaller on each side, and a matching gold pearl on a clear plastic string around her neck were the finishing touches. Jovia had argued against these things–except the ring, since rings were good for punching; they added pain- but Geniva had been relentless, and Jovia had eventually given up, simply tucking the Jupiter amulet under her low neckline, glad the cord was long.  
  
At last, to Jovia's great joy and relief, Geniva deemed her ready, and led her out a second door that led out of the dressing room, and entered the bedchambers once more. On her way out, the weightless, flowing cloak floating out behind her slightly from the wind made by her brisk movements, Jovia glanced up at the high (understatement) ceiling once more. She smiled; it was a breathtaking scene of a lightning storm. If one were too look closely, one could barely make out the face of a beautiful woman in the clouds, illuminated by the lightning.  
  
"Miss," Geniva said, opening the door of the bedchambers and bowing slightly. Jovia, suddenly feeling the part of the person who would typically wear and live among such grandeur, squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and strode out. Geniva moved ahead of her and opened the door that Jovia had originally been through in through, and again the girl bowed, giving Jovia a wink. Jovia, softening, smiled at her.  
  
"Thanks for all your help," She said, slightly awkward; she didn't thank people very often. She did it more than Rodica, but not all that often nonetheless.  
  
Jovia, suddenly nervous, stepped outside the suite of rooms and straight into the center of a square made by four armed Elite guards. Jovia swallowed, touched her amulet under her shirt briefly, before standing up straight once more, fixing her face with a blank mask, and let the troop lead her down the hall towards the main corridor once more…  
  
Despite her preset blank expression, Jovia was unable to mask the expression or cry of delight that she released when they rounded the corner and she saw, ahead of her, three more sets of armed Elite guards around an expertly and expensively dressed girl, each in a different set of colors.  
  
Right in front of Jovia, with a brilliant smile on her face, Amenea whirled surprisingly quickly and smoothly, considering the tight, short, bright golden yellow mini skirt she wore. It, too, was low riding, and her top was a bright orange red with metallic gold thread weaving through it, giving it a dazzling, sparkling look in the light. It was short enough to show her belly button when she moved, and it was long sleeved, the sleeves being snug and fitted down to her wrists. It was off the shoulders; her body, halfway down her breasts and on up, was completely bare, clear across her chest and shoulders, except for one orange ribbon around her neck which served as a choker, with a red gem in the center of the ribbon.  
  
She also had a cape similar to Jovia's, hers made of pale gold. It was attached at the back of her choker, then it flared out into a multitude of folds of silky, flowing, almost transparent material. It was attached to her sleeves at half way down the upper arms, the elbows, and wrists.  
  
But what was really breathtaking was Amenea's long, awe enticing hair. It fell to her knees in a luxurious cascade of spun white gold. Not a single split end, spec of dirt, blemish, or hair out of place. The top part of her hair was swept up into a perfect braided bun, held in place by a gold, ruby and sapphire studded domed cage. A few ringlets framed her shining face and bright blue eyes.  
  
"Hey!" Amenea exclaimed as they continued their march down the corridor. "You look great!"  
  
"So do you!" Jovia grinned. "You could pass for a princess!"  
  
"That's what Yadima said!" Amenea giggled.  
  
"Yadima?" Jovia asked.  
  
"My 'maid," Amenea giggled. "Can you believe it? I had a handmaid!"  
  
"Me too!" Jovia grinned. "Her name was Geniva."  
  
"Oooh, how pretty!" Amenea gushed. Jovia laughed. It seemed a good washing and new clothes and done them both good…they hadn't laughed quite this freely for quite some time…and it seemed, up ahead, Nenaphe and Rodica were having an equally joyful chat…  
  
  
  
  
  
"So you've got one, too? And Jovia sto- er, has 'acquired' one, as well?" Rodica inquired, ruby lips pursed, deep royal purple eyes –matching her newly revealed (via good washing) royal purple highlights in her otherwise pitch black hair- flashing in fascination. Nenaphe nodded her confirmation, sparkling sapphire eye shadow making her eyes seem like sparkling azure stones. Her petite, glossy pink lips in a small smile.  
  
"Isn't that odd that we all have the exact same amulet? Only with different symbols?" Nenaphe said. "I find it very peculiar."  
  
"It's even more odd that the each of our symbols is the rune of a god that fits each of us rather well," Rodica commented. Again, Nenaphe nodded.  
  
"Quite…" Nenaphe agreed.  
  
"I find it double weird that we both have natural highlights in such rare colors, too," Rodica said with a smile. "Isn't that, like, a sign or something, don't you think?"  
  
"It is quite a coincidence," Nenaphe smiled. "And both of ours bring out our eyes quite well."  
  
"'Course, the color coordinated outfits don't hurt!" Rodica laughed, and Nenaphe chuckled cutely. Indeed, they were both dressed to match their unique hair qualities. Nenaphe herself was in a black skirt that went to her knees. It was full and gathered and flared out completely vertical when she spun fast enough; she wore very short spandex shorts under the skirt because of it. The inch and a half wide waistband was just below her belly button, and it, and the hem, was intricately embroidered with silver thread and blue beads.  
  
Her top was something Nenaphe was desperately hoping she'd be allowed to keep; cobalt blue and fitted, snug, made of a semi stretchy material that clung to every curve. It was long enough so that the hem barely touched the top of the waistband of her skirt. It had a low, square neckline edged in the same black ribbon, silver embroidery that was on the waistband.  
  
But it was the sleeves that really made the outfit. They were snug and fitted till halfway down her arm, where a black band that matched her skirt's waistband and hem kept it snug against her elbow. Then it flared out, the soft, raw silk material gathered with enough material for a whole other outfit! The sleeves were long, going to her knees, swishing and flowing like the sleeves of an angel's gown.  
  
Her hair had been curled, so that her tresses were temporarily a springy mass of soft ringlets, her bangs pinned back with silver, black pearl and blue crystal beaded clips. A ring that wrapped around her finger in a spiral from her knuckle to the base of her finger was in silver, with tiny pearls embedded in it. There was the most delicate silver chain strung loosely around the base of her throat, studded with black pearls that were an inch apart. The finishing touch was black pearl stud earrings, with a silver chain as thin as a thread hanging from it, with another pearl at the end of the silver chain/thread.  
  
Last, but not least, she, like Jovia and Amenea, had a flowing, raw silk, pale blue cape that was clipped to her shoulders. A silver chain hung down across her chest, from one clasp to the other, loosely enough so that the chain tickled her occasionally bare belly button.  
  
"Did you pick out your outfit?" Rodica wanted to know. Nenaphe blushed.  
  
"Oh, goodness, no!" She plucked at the snug bodice of her top. "As much as I love this outfit now, I never would have picked it, let alone put it together… Little Kasanai has very good taste," Nenaphe smiled at the memory of the cute, very helpful little handmaiden.  
  
"Poor Mansidi has very poor taste," Rodica laughed. "She told me so herself, so one of her friends had already pre-selected an outfit for me." She smoothed the black, shiny, hip hugging, low riding, belly-button revealing pleather pants with red and purple filigree on the flared bottom half of her pants and waistband.  
  
Her shirt was snug, full sleeved with a high, boat neckline, edged in dark purple. But the top itself was short enough that it only came down to just under her bosom, where royal purple beads on threads dangled down to tickle her bare, tight, muscled midriff. She wore black ankle boots, dangling ruby earrings, and only a small section of her bangs pinned back with a ruby clip. Tiny round, purple gems on special magnets were scattered among her long, knee length raven hair.  
  
Her cape was identical to Jovia's except the fact that it was full enough that when she stretched her arms out as far to the side, straight out, as they would go, the cape reached to and was attached to the gold rings on her middle fingers. It did this with enough excess material so that it was far from being pulled taut.  
  
"I wonder what's with the capes…" Rodica mussed, fiddling with one of the rings that the cape was attached to.  
  
"Probably some sort of status declaration," Nenaphe observed. "Or perhaps to show that we're all together."  
  
"Or maybe whoever planned our wardrobes just likes to be frivolous?"  
  
Nenaphe laughed. "I doubt it." She smiled.  
  
"Look straight ahead, ladies, stop your chatter, and look presentable," A 'guard' that was ahead of Rodica and wasn't part of the square around Rodica, who was in front of Nenaphe, snapped.  
  
When he turned away, Rodica stuck her tongue out at him and crossed her eyes. Nenaphe, while slightly fearful that the man would whirl around and slice off that tongue, couldn't help put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile, lest she giggle.  
  
Behind her, Amenea turned to face forward as well, and hers and Jovia's brief exchange ceased as well.  
  
Presently they came to an arched doorway, with no doors, which lead into a lush, well kept and very well landscaped garden courtyard. They crossed the courtyard briefly, Elite officers watching them with interested looks, some a bit more interested than was proper. To those, Rodica and Jovia glared, Nenaphe blushed and adverted her gaze, and Amenea smirked or winked.  
  
They crossed the courtyard quickly enough, Jovia, along with Nenaphe, Rodica, and Amenea, mourning the loss of the brief sunlight on the skin, as well as the intoxicating scent of wild flowers and jungle blooms, all in the same place thanks to controlled climate sections.  
  
They crossed the courtyard and entered a building. From the brief, rough layout Kasanai had described to Nenaphe, she estimated that they were probably in the Main Tower of the Elite headquarters. The Elite headquarters were made of three towers; the East Tower, the barracks and the training courts and gyms, the Main Tower conference rooms, meeting rooms, ball rooms, offices, and the West Tower; guest suites, extra conference rooms, storage, power generators, ect.  
  
The came to an air lift, and they each too turns on it, five at a time; four guards, one girl, still in the center.  
  
When they were all on the fifth level, Nenaphe estimated, they resumed their trek down another, larger, more intricately decorated corridor to a pair of huge double doors. The doors were opened; the guards turned to face each other, and stepped away, forming two straight lines on either side of the door. The man that had been leading the whole procession, entered, bowed, and the turned and waved for Rodica to come forward. Nenaphe followed, Amenea and Jovia behind her. They quickly came together to form one group, not bothering to stay in the single file line as the man had obviously wished.  
  
Now that Amenea was close enough to get a good look at him, she saw that it was the same man whom had been her captor when they had dragged them to the suites of rooms. She gave him a wink as she passed him.  
  
"Ah, ladies," a voice greeted them upon entering the large room, with a long, wide, mahogany, polished table going down the center. At the far end was a small stage like dais and a large window behind it, and there were several arched, slender windows a few feet apart on both walls, but it was the young woman, not the man that rose to greet them, that caught all their eyes.  
  
The woman, with a younger girl sitting beside her, obviously a handmaiden, drew in a sharp breath at the site of them, as did Rodica.  
  
"I know her…" was all Rodica could think before their eyes met, all of them looking into the silver-blue orbs of the young woman, and her eyes somehow meeting theirs all at once…  
  
Time seemed to stop, the sunlight itself froze its journey from the sun to earth, the stars paused their eternal song, fire ceased its dancing, the ocean's roar was silenced, and everything came crashing down…  
  
  
  
To Be Continued….  
  
  
  
  
  
Hiya, peeps! Thanks soooooo much for the feedback! It's been great!  
  
You know, I had chapter one written the next day after I posted the prologue, but then there was that STUPID, ENRAGING 'we're partially down for maintenance and a major fixer-upper so you can't login' deal I couldn't load it. So now it's been loaded, along with this one. Yes, I deliberately posted this one two days after Chapter one even though I'd had it written long before I posted chapter one. Why? Because, in my experience, you get more reviews that way. *halo*  
  
Okay, I'm almost done with chapter three, where they should at least begin to suspect who they really are/were. Are the new names confusing? I kept them semi-similar to their original names. Except Nenaphe…but it was such a cute and pretty name and it fit Ami so well…. *sigh*  
  
If you find the new names confusing, let me know and if enough people find it just plain awkward then I will rewrite it and do away with the new names, kay?  
  
Also, if you want a good good, well done, imagination inspiring, but short fantasy one shot fic, then 'Beauty's Rose' is purrrrrrrrfect! It's done by a wonderful author, Azhuaea Fluer. It's just a lil food for thought fic about the sorceress who cursed the beast in Beauty and the Beast. We're NOT talking Disney, people. Have any of you actually read the ORIGINAL Beauty and the Beast? Think Charles Dickens level. This is no little girl fairy tale.  
  
Anyhoo, hope ya liked the fic, and remember; review. Button. Be. Friend. *halo* Ja ne!  
  
Hope Makes the Universe Shine,  
  
Makura Koneko  
  
  
  
P.S. I know, I KNOW I wasted a lot of time and effort and space on the outfit decorations, but…hey, I'm a girl, okay? I've said it before and I shall say it again; I'm as girly girl as you can get and it shows! *sweatdrop* Tell me if you think I'm going into TOO much detail, and I'll try (note: I said 'try.') to cut back, kay? Kay. Ja! -Makura Koneko  
  
  
  
ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY 


	4. Chapter Three

**__**

Shattered Tapestry

By Makura Koneko

**__**

Chapter Three

****

In the last installment of _Shattered Tapestry_…

__

The young woman, with a younger girl sitting beside her who was obviously a handmaiden, drew in a sharp breath at the site of them, as did Rodica in return.

"I know her…" was all Rodica could comprehend before their eyes met, all of them looking into the silver-blue orbs of the young woman, and her eyes somehow meeting theirs all at once…

Time seemed to stop, the sunlight itself froze its journey from the sun to earth, the stars paused their eternal song, fire ceased its dancing, the ocean's roar was silenced, and everything came crashing down…

****

And now the Continuation…

As soon as they had all been hurtled into the mental vortex, they were yanked out. Time resumed, the stars continued to sing, the fire began again its deadly dance, and the ocean roared once more.

"I know you!" Rodica blurted out, more of an accusation than a statement.

"I very much doubt that, miss," The handmaiden at the silver eyed woman's side said, glancing at her mistress in concern; she was pasty white, her lips trembling as she swallowed harshly.

"And why the hell is that?" Jovia snapped. The handmaiden looked at her in a gentle way and poured her lady a glass of water, which she accepted and sipped at, quietly, out of habit.

"It is unlikely you have ever even heard of me, is what she meant," The woman said in a soft, sweet voice…

Nenaphe was hard pressed to hold down a squeak of shock as an image and a voice bombarded her senses….

__

The smell of the sea…the sensation of sand under her feet…a book - a real_ book!- in her hands, a familiar laugh…a shinning face…_

"Hey, bookworm! Today, you're gonna be nothing but play! Now up up up and get in the water, for goodness sake!"

"Serena…" Nenaphe whispered.

"What did you say, Neph?" Amenea asked. Nenaphe blinked and mentally shook herself out of her reverie. She glanced at the silver-eyed woman and swallowed. _It couldn't be…the girl…that shining face in that…flash…that vision…her eyes were the brightest of blues, her hair like spun sunshine… But the face…the innocent sweetness…it's unmistakable…who is she?_

"Hey, Earth to Neph," Jovia waved her hand in front of Nenaphe's face, and Nenaphe blinked again, and blushed in embarrassment as she realized she had 'spaced out' for the second time.

"O-oh!" She exclaimed. "Sorry, girls. M-my apologies, miss…?" This last was directed at the silver-eyed woman. The handmaiden, a slight, extremely fragile looking girl with amazingly straight black hair with the lightest ice violet highlights, stood up.

"May I present," She said with experience, winking at the silver-eyed young woman when she rolled her eyes. "The Lady of leading house of the Moons, current owner and holder of the family Silver Crystal and youngest daughter of Lord Victorus, her grace, the Lady Faesilvria Monstrahl of the house of Monstrahl."

"Call me Silvra," The subject of such a fancy introduction said with an embarrassed, flushed laugh. Amenea grinned, stepped forward and around the table and took the hand Silvra had just used to brush one of the longer strands of her bangs behind her ear. Amenea shook it heartily.  


"Amenea Catherine Harte, milady," Amenea said without hesitation.

"Nice to meet you!" Silvra said with a genuine smile.

Jovia, who raised an amused eyebrow at this friendly exchange between a nobleborn lady and an Alalia-under thief, suddenly noticed the man whom had first greeted them upon their entrance. Short pale violet hair, and dark red eyes. He was smiling a smile that made Jovia shiver in an unpleasant way, for all he was coldly beautiful to look upon.

Rodica, too, suddenly began to feel that something was out of place, something…wrong… She felt eyes on her, watching her, and her own eyes suddenly snapped to a spot on the wall across from where Silvra and Amenea were commenting on their rings, which were similar.

Leaning against that spot on the wall was a breathtakingly handsome man…a beautiful man, in a masculine way, for that was really the only word to describe him. Rodica felt he scalp crawl, the hair on the back of her neck stand on end… This man did not mean them well. He may not mean them harm, but he was not interested in their welfare beyond the reason he had called them there in the first place…this Rodica, the seeress of Alalia-under, knew this to the depths of her soul.

"Oh, how rude of me," Amenea suddenly said. "Silvra, these are my friends, my roommate Rodica-"

"Rodicarei Anna Raptor," Rodica filled in with a polite, calculating smile as she looked the lady over. She looked delicate, as was expected, but, surprisingly, there was slight muscle under her fine porcelain skin.

"And this is my…associate and her best friend," Amenea motioned to Jovia and Nenaphe.

"Jovia," Jovia said briskly, until Nenaphe elbowed her. She glared at her shorter friend before adding, "Jovialyka Willow Stegetra."

"Nenaphelalia Sophia Anderson," She curtseyed slightly after only a moment's shy hesitation.

"Well, you all heard my name," Silvra said. "This is my handmaiden and best friend in the whole world, Shinkana Keika." Shinkana bowed slightly, smiling as her mistress gave the introduction at the same time she stood.

When Silvra stood up, it was revealed that she wore a silver gown so pale a silver it looked white, with a fitted bodice. The skirt was full and gathered, cut on the round, meaning that if you were to pull the hem of the skirt out in all directions, it would make a circle. The top was that of a Greek goddess's; clipped at the shoulders, then swooped down to leave her arm bare until halfway down her arm, where there was another pin. Then again at her elbow, then again half way down her lower arm, then finally at her wrist, where the rest of the material hung free.

There was a bright sparkling silver sash about her waist, and silver trimming on the swooped and gathered neckline. The pins, brooches, actually, were silver, as was the round, breathtakingly beautiful, newborn's-fist sized silver crystal at her throat.

"That stone..." Nenaphe commented on the crystal. "What is it made out of, if you please, my lady?"

"Oh, just call me Silvra," Silvra said in a bright, cheery voice. "And the crystal? I really dunno-"

"'Don't know,' lady, not 'dunno.'" Kana poked her in the ribs and Silvra pouted cutely, enticing a laugh from Amenea and a smile from everyone else.

"Well, while you get acquianted perhaps you'd all like refreshment?" Everyone looked towards the beautiful man, who pushed away from the wall, one hand in the pocket of his tailred pants, his other down at his side in a very casual stance. He smiled charmingly at Silvra, who blushed slightly. Amenea had to resist making goo-goo eyes as well. She very well might have lost the battle, had she not picked up immediately on the fact that this man wanted Silvra only for her beauty and status...

"Refreshment would include food, right?" Amenea inquired.

"Yes, Amenea, refreshment would include food," The man laughed, and signaled the Captain whom still stood in the doorway. He nodded, and in turn signaled someone outside the room. Almost immediately several covered trays and large pitchers and a set of cups were brought in and set down on the table. The servants bowed, and left.

"Please, ladies, have a seat," The man said, and took for himself a seat across from Silvra. Kana was on Silvra's left, and to Silvra's right sat Amenea. On Amenea's right was Jovia, then Nenaphe, then Rodica. Next to the beautiful man sat the Captain.

"Pardon me for saying this so bluntly," Rodica said in, her words arranged in an attempt to sound more 'proper.' "But we've all introduced ourselves, though I figured you already knew who we are, but...well, who the heck are you two?"

"My apologies for my rudeness," The beautiful man said, his face shining in amusement. "I am Rubar Asinus. I am one of the speakers for the Elite Council here at Headquartes. And this," He clapped the Elite officer ont he shoulder. "Is Captain Trippar, my highest ranking officer, and my trusted friend."

"Hello," Nenaphe said politely. Captain Trippar stood and removed the covers from the dishes, and Rodica passed down the plates and napkins.

"Lord Asinus," Nenaphe began as Jovia poured the juice.

"Rubar, please, I despise formality," He said charmingly. Nenaphe smiled shyly.

"Rubar," She said. "I hate to be 'blunt' as my friend Rodica put it, but...may I ask...I mean, that is, I mean to say, well what I'm trying to say, or rather, ask is...well..."

"What the hell are we doing here?" Amenea supplied brightly, filling her plate with dates and fruit breads and cheeses. Nenaphe flushed.

"Er...to put it...frankly, yes," Nenaphe agreed. "What are we doing here?"

"And why in the name of the mother of the moon did you have to make it kidnapping like?" Rodica added, her voice slightly angry and very indignent.

"My apologies," Rubar sighed. "The ones we sent to...invite you were...overzelous." Jovia snorted as she bit into a chunk of bread with gusto.

"Overzelous?" She repeated. "Try downright nasty," She glowered as she touched a knot at the back of her head where she had fallen. "And arent electric whips illegal?"

"Electic whips?" Captain Trippar echoed. "One of the officers used one?"

"On...on m-me and Jovia..." Nenaphe spoke up. "When our backs were turned..."

"I would have had him if he hadn't beena coward and snuck behind us!" Jovia growled, forgetting that she was calling one of Captain Trippar's fellows a name that many did not like to be called. Or rather, if she did remember, she didn't care. Luckily, neither did Trippar.

"I'll have to have a word with Luitenant Coronage," Trippar muttered.

"Though besides that, I must say you did an excellent job of fending the others off, miss Jovia," Rubar delicately bit into a fig. Jovia swallowed a chunk of cheese loudly, without chewing.

"That was one of my bad days," she said honestly. "Being able to fight is second nature to those of Alalia-under, it's as important as breathing. No, more so. If you can't breath, it still takes you a few minutes to die. Without being able to fight, you don't stand a chance for three minutes."

"I hate to say she's completely right," Amenea agreed. She then brightened. "But that's not what we're here to talk about, is it?"

"She's right," Rodica said. "You still haven't answered our question. Okay, you said that the officers you sent weren't supposed to manhandle us like they did. Fine, I can take that, but that still doesn't explain why you sent them for us in the first place. Or why you bothered to wash us all up and get us all fancy like."

"Indeed I do owe you ladies an explanation," Rubar said, sipping at his juice. "And I believe what I am about to say should clear it up as clear as it can get.

"The Elite are a group of well trained warriors, spies, and soldiers that keep the law and protect the unprotected." Rubar leaned forward. "It extremely hard to get into the Elite. You can be the best warrior there is, and still not get in. Why? Because every single person in these three towers that is an Elite officer has at least a single drop of Senshi blood in them. No one, unless they are somehow related to a descendant of the Senshi, can even test for the Cadet Academy."

"The...the Senshi?" Silvra inquired. "Who are they?"

"Ahhh...who are the Senshi...." Rubar smiled. "My dear, you will never hope to see their like, not even if you live thousands of years. For the Senshi are practically goddesses. Their souls are immortal, if any soul is so. They were the greatest warriors in this galaxy's entire history. The greatest. They were never defeated, not once, until they decided to give their lives rather than commit what they considered the ultimate sin of killing one of their own.

"Orignally, the Senshi were the Guardians of a legendary, paradise era known as the Silver Millennium. They were the guardians of the hope of that era, the heir to the throne of the entire Galaxy, the High Princess Serenity. The actual personal relationship between the Princess and her Senshi is unknown, but it is suspected they were the best of friends, for they sacraficed their lives to save hers time and time again, far above and beyond the what their oath had called of them.

"When the Silver Millennium fell because of a trecherous betrayl by the Princess's own aunt, the Queen, Serenity's mother, managed to salvage the survivors and send their souls, their essence, into the future to be reborn, erasing the Senshi and the Princess's memories of their true identies so that they might live peacefully.

"But that peace was not to last. Queen Beryl, Serenity's aunt, when she had brought about the downfall of the Silver Millennium, was trapped by Queen Selenity, her sister, inside the sun. But unfortunately, Queen Beryl broke free of her eternal prison, and set again on conquering the known universe.

"Luckily, the memories of the Senshi and the Princess were awakened enough so that they were able to stop and destroy her in time, but once this was finished, again their memories were buried by the wish of the Princess, whom had great power from a family heirloom, the Illusion Crystal. The Princess had joined her Senshi and become one of them, the first Sailor Moon, though the planetary Senshi forever claimed that their first and foremost duty would forever be to protect her first, and the Earth second.

"Eventually, another evil arose, forcing them all to remember. This time, once the enemy was destroyed, they kept their memories, and lived out their lives defending the Earth and their Princess, who was their leader.

"Now, no one knows how or why, but it when a Senshi from another Galaxy came, possessed by the goddess of Chaos, Destiny itself had preordained that Princess Serenity, with the aid of her Senshi, would truimph. But, somehow, they didn't. They lost, rather than destroy something they all deemed more precious than Earth itself. And so they perished, but, before their souls were cast away, waiting to be reborn again in the future, from their spilt blood the Princess basically cloned her Senshi and herself. While these babes were identicle to their 'parent's in DNA, they did not hold their mother's souls or their powers. Perhaps she had planned to plant the souls of her loved ones in the cloned babes, but was unable to. Whatever the case, these enfants were their own people, though they all had extraordinarily quick ability to heal, amazing agility, speed, and sometimes strength. While their abilities did not reach an uncanny level, it was inhuman. Meanwhile, the Senshi were never seen again.

"Earth fell into shambles for a good hundred years or so before it picked itself up on its own, without the aid of the Senshi or destiny or fate or anything else. The descendants of the Senshi 'clones' took it upon themselves to form a guardianship that would dedicate itself to protecting and serving others. Other people believed them to be Elite to the common law keepers, and the name stuck. Thus, the Elite was born, almost three hundred years ago. And here it is today, growing strong."

"Strong my butt," Silvra said bluntly after a moment.

"Silvra!" Kana exclaimed with surprise rather than disapproval. Rubar raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" He asked eloquently.

"The Elite have been sliding downwards rather fast both in popularity and effenciency these past years, and everyone knows it." Silvra said.

"Faesilvria!" Kana hissed.

"What?" Silvra pouted. "Mama's not here to whack me when I'm rude, so I can speak my mind!" Kana rolled her eyes. Silvra tossed one of her ponytails over her shoulder. To Kana's surprise, Silvra had decided to redo that bun and ponytail hairstyle. For some reason, Silvra felt that it was...right. Even she wasn't lossed on how absurd it is that one might find a _hairstyle_ that they were meant to wear their entire lives...

Upon arriving at Headquarters, Silvra had been given a suite or rooms, one sitting/living room, a study with a small collection of books that Silvra vowed to stay as far away from as possible, a bedroom with the highest ceiling Silvra had ever seen, a bathing room (the bath, the size of a small pool, was half the size of hers at home) and a dressing room with, surpisingly, little more than nesseccities for a wardrobe. What really confused her was the presence of Elite uniforms... The maids had assured her that these rooms were hers. So why would an officer had left their uniforms?

But before she'd been able to ponder, Kana had, ever cautious of her health -Her health! when it was Kana who keeled over if she breathed to hard!- had put her to bed with some cookies and warm milk.

That had been yesterday. She and Kana together had selected her outfit, selecting something that clearly stated her station (that one Kana had insisted on. Silvra would have been happy to dress as a civilian.) but was easy to move around in should fleeing become nessecary. Really, Kana was almost her body guard, the way she so thoroughly thought out these things. Indeed, Kana had been trained in a few ancient fighting arts, and were it not for her lung condition, she might very well be Silvra's bodyguard officially.

But she wasn't, and for that Silvra was grateful. The thought of one of her friends -actually, her only friend- putting their lives in danger to keep her safe...she shuddered even as she thought about it.

"Hey, meatball head!" Silvra was snapped out of her reverie by a rather rude calling. Kana glared at Rodica.

"Hey!" Silvra said indignently. "These are buns and pigtails, okay? Whatever gave you the idea they were meatballs?"

"'Cause they're meatballs to go with that sphagetti of a brain, that's what," Rodica stuck out her tongue, to which Silvra heartily replied in like.

"Least I don't go walking around insulting people!" Silvra quipped, sitting up tall in her seat, every inch a grand lady, and looked straight ahead, refusing to look as Rodica growled.

"Hey, I was just trying to get your attention, meatball head; you asked a question, at least keep your ditzy mind present long enough to hear the answer!"

"Ditzy?" Silvra sputtered in rage, turned to face Rodica, and standing up fast enough that her chair was shoved back. She stepped around the back of Nenaphe -whom had her head in her hands- Jovia -who was smirking- and Amenea -who was looking at Rodica pleadingly. By the time Silvra came to Rodica, the seeress had stood, and they were nose to nose...actually, nose to chin, since Silvra was considerably shorter.

"Say that again to my face," Silvra growled lowly.

"Meat. Ball. Head. Ditz. Sphagetti. Brains. Airhead. Meatball head. Should I continue?"

"Why you...you...you...."

"Gee, that's soooo witty."

"Ugh!" Silvra screeched. And, sumiltaniously, Rodica and Silvra both whipped out their best weapons and began firing; a full fledged rasberry war was in session.

"Ladies, ladies!" Rubar cut through their war making, and Silvra and Rodica looked at him. Nenaphe and Kana both released sighs of relief, and Jovia gave Rodica a low hand slap.

"Ladies, now that you have heard the history of the Elite in summarized form, I shall get to the point." He said, standing as Silvra, with one last tongue-sticking-out over her shoulder at Rodica, took her seat as well at the same time Rodica sat down.

"'Bout time," Jovia glowered. Rubar didn't even glance at her as he continued.

"As Lady Monstrahl exposed to you, the Elite have been rapidly loosing popularity, support, and efficiency. This is because several years ago, threat of war, though a small one, was present and the Governor asked us to step up our numbers. Well, as I said, you have to have at least forty DNA similarities to the DNA of the Senshi in order even enter the Cadet Academy. To respond to the Governor's request, we lowered that requirement to twenty. Now, the younger, newer officers, the ones that there really is only a 10% chance they're related to the descendants of the Senshi at all, they have gotten rash, conceitful, power hungry."

"Now that the war threat is over, we realize what a mistake it was to lower the requirement." Captain Trippar added. "But, if we try and 'fire' the officers, they may very well just band together and turn around and wage war on us."

"You'd have a civil war on your hands," Nenaphe summed up. "I see your problem... But, if I may be so bold as to ask...what does that have to do with us?"

"Everything. For you, or rather, Lady Monstrahl, are the solution." Rubar said. "You see, one of our...legends here at the Elite, a fable, if you will, is that one day the true Senshi will be reborn into five members of the Elite."

"But aren't there...ten Senshi?" Amenea spoke up suddenly, her tone thoughtful.

"Er...depends on your definition of....Senshi..." Trippar said after a moment. "There were four other 'Senshi' who assisted the true senshi every now and then...but they were never really one group. The Senshi we talk about are the 'inner' Senshi. The ones whom only assisted in the most dire battles, and who looked down on the Inners because they believed them...weak, because of their high morales, they were the Outer Senshi. Where they went when not assisting the Inners, it isn't known. It is suspected they were responsible for making sure no evils entered our Galaxy _outside_ our solar system."

"That...that sounds...right...." Silvra said after a moment. Rubar looked at her for a moment, then Amenea, whom had asked the question.

__

"How did she know?" Trippar thought, looking at Silvra. _"Not many people outside the Elite even know about the Senshi, let alone that there were ten..."_ He tucked away the rest of that trail of thought for further pondering on a rainy day.

"Well, as I was saying," Rubar continued, not missing the glances the girls, even Silvra and Kana, were exchanging. "One of our little fables is that one day, the Senshi themselves will appear in reborn form. They will have extraordinary powers, and control over the elements; stone -or, rather, crystal- ice, fire, weather and nature, and light. They will rise up and take control of the Elite, replace the Council, work out the flaws in our system, and Earth will become a paradise. We have been working especially hard to teach this as a truth, practically its own religion, if you will, to the newest recruits and younger officers."

"Let me guess," Rodica said after a moment. "You want us to play these reincarnated Senshi, and then put us on a pedestal, and hide behind us and use us to kick out those you don't like. Like puppets."

"No, not puppets. Indeed, you will get full benefits. You will be treated like goddesses." Rubar told him.

"That explains why we were brought here...it also explains why we in particular were selected," Jovia said thoughtfully. Silvra sat, silent, watching everything with wide eyes. "You did your research," She credited him. "You knew we were all friends, as the Senshi must have been, and, if I'm not mistaken, you selected us for our looks, huh? You wanted us to semi match the looks of the Senshi."

"Or at least wha you think the Senshi looked like," Amenea added. Jovia nodded.

"You've nailed it," Rubar told them. "So, what do you say?" He looked at Silvra.

"M-me?" Silvra blinked.

"Yes, you, my dear," Rubar smiled. "Each one of you will play a Senshi. Your house is the leading house in the circle of the Houses of the Moon. Who do you think you will be, dear?"

Silvra's eyes widened.

"_Her_?" Rodica raised an eyebrow with a slight snort. "She barely passes as a lady, even with the fancy clothes and that crystal. Do you honestly think she could play a princess?"

"She will not only be your princess, but your leader, as well," Trippar said, running his finger around the edge of his goblet, smiling in amusement. "And as thus most decisions will fall to her. And if she deems so, this one as well."

"Hey, heck no, I'm not deciding! Not now!" Silvra shook her head vigorously. "Besides, this decision is for all of us! I have no right to decide for them!" No one noticed the glance Rodica threw her, a look that had a new, slight gleem of respect to it.

"Don't we get, like, a time frame to think about this?" Amenea asked.

"I'm assuming this all does not include me?" Kana inquired. Rubar nodded. "Indeed, it does not. And when you go back I'll have asked you not to speak a word of this." Kana nodded.

"And yes, Miss Harte," Rubar told her with a predatory smile. "You do get a timeframe. Five minutes." With that, he rose, bowed slightly to Silvra, and he and Captain Trippar left, no doubt to return promptly in five minutes for their answer.

"Okay, can anyone else say 'totally unfair?'" Amenea grumbled.

"Totally unfair!" Silvra said indignantly, with a slight pout. "Who does he think we are?"

"Lap dogs at his beck and call?" Jovia suggested bitterly.

"Guys, as much as I agree with you and hate how his manipulating us," Nenaphe spoke up. "I have to say I am excited about this opportunity. Oh, not to be played and used and pretend to be someone that I'm not, but-"

"Uh...Am-I mean, Neph...isn't that kinda all there is to it?" Jovia raised an eyebrow in disgust.

"No, Nenaphe's right!" Silvra said suddenly. "Don't you guys get it? We've got a chance to not only be...well, princesses, goddesses, but...we get to help!"

"Rubar did say himself that the Elite is going to shambles," Rodica pointed out. "And as much as I hated having to keep a look out for 'em to keep my neck out of a noose, they always did catch all the nasty vermin that lived in Alalia-under. They never really bothered those who were honestly just trying to survive."

"We'd be heros," Amenea said softly. "Celebrities...for a while anyway."

"What will they do with us once they're done, though?" Jovia asked a good question.

"Well, I don't think they'd kill us," Silvra said, nibbling at an apple. "'Cause people would suspect it was all just a big shamoo if we suddenly disappeared."

"Unless they had us declare something like, 'oh, we're going to go join our fellow gods and godettes, okay, bye bye!'" Amenea pointed out.

"I wouldn't let em," Silvra said fiercely. "I may be in disgrace, but I'm still nobility."

"Disgrace?" Rodica raised an eyebrow.

"Let's not get off the subject," Nenaphe cut in. Silvra and Kana both threw her a grateful look. "The question is, would it be worth it, to be used and played like puppets, and cleanse the Elite?"

There was silence for a moment.

"A lot of good was done by the Elite before they started going nasty," Amenea admitted. "Kind of like the musketeers; loyal, brave, good morales. They used to protect the people. The old Elite would never have just snatched and manhandled us like they did, even if we were from Alalia-under." She bit her lip gently. "I...I think I'd be willing to bring that back if it will mean better protection and service for the people. Even....Even if it means being puppets."

"I'll have to second that," Rodica said. Her eyes glimmered. "But who says we have to be puppets? We've probably got a better idea of what needs to be done in the Elite, since we've had to live under their rule. I say we pretend to go along with what they want us to do, then we take matters into our own hands once we've been acknowledged as the Senshi. They'll be powerless to stop us, since they put us in power in the first place."

"Well now that you put it that way," Jovia was grinning now. "I'll have to pitch in; you guys couldn't fight to save your lives. You'll need my help."

"And I'm in, too," Nenaphe said. "Someone will have to catalog all our doings for future reference."

"What about you, Meatball head?" Rodica's tone was actually friendly. Silvra grinned.

"Sounds good to me!" She said. "All for one..."

"And one for all!" The other girls echoed, and laughed. Even Kana was smiling.

"Time is up, ladies," Rubar said upon entering. "What is the verdict." They all exchanged looks, then looked to Silvra, who grinned. 

"We'll do it!" Silvra said, jumping up in a most unladylike way. "Look out, Elite, here we come!"

****

To Be Continued…

__

Ugh! Now ALL of FF.net is down! *grumbles* Well, by the time you read this, FF.Net will have been back up for a while, probably, so why am I grumping to you? Oh, that's right, because I'm TICKED! *grumbles again* *sigh* oh, well.

Any special requests about what you would like to see happen? Do you want Rubar to try and woo Silvra? How would you like Arden (Darien) to come back into the story? Don't worry, he will be back, probably in the next chapter. Do you want them (the Senshi) to make any friends? If so, what kind? Do you think Amenea (Mina) and Captain Trippar would make a good couple?

Review, or e-mail and tell me what you think, please! Advice, suggestions, feedback, and constructive crisism (not flames; there is a difference) are welcome. Needless, pointless, and just plain brainless flames such as 'this story sucks' will be used to fuel my creative fire and make it so that even to the closed minded, this story will not 'suck.'

Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed, and I hope to see you in the next chapter! Ja!

Hope Makes the Universe Shine,

Makura Koneko

****

ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY


	5. Chapter Four

**__**

Shattered Tapestry

By Makura Koneko

**__**

Chapter Four

****

In the last installment of _Shattered Tapestry_…

__

"Time is up, ladies," Rubar said upon entering. "What is the verdict?" They all exchanged looks, then looked to Silvra, who grinned. 

"We'll do it!" Silvra said, jumping up in a most unladylike way and not caring. "Look out, Elite, here we come!"

****

And now the Continuation…

Rodica tossed and turned. She wasn't used to sleeping on such a soft surface. At first it had been bliss, but then her body had started to complain. It had been so long since she'd slept on anything since her pallet. Her body knew the curves and creases and soft spots on it, and it was whining at the concept of her asking it to sleep on something foreign. Rodica sighed and stood up, brushed her long, still shimmering clean raven hair over her shoulder. She stuck her feet into the soft, red slippers –how long had it been since her feet had been warm at night in the spring? Let alone winter? 

Rodica stood up and pulled one of the soft linen sheets out from under the thick quilt. The act made a messy tangle of the bedclothes, but she was too tired to give it much thought as she wrapped the sheet around her shoulders. She looked over her shoulder; the sheet trailed behind her a good six feet at least. She sighed and dismissed it as she grabbed a pillow and headed for the balcony, the doors to which were in the main room. She exited her bedchambers and pushed open the balcony doors, made of pure, shining glass. She took a moment to touch the glass. Glass, especially glass as fine and clear as this, was a prized possession in Alalia-below. Both as a luxury trinket and a weapon.

Rodica shook her head. That life was behind her now. She could feel it. 

She found a spot between two large pots against the wall of the balcony, and dropped her pillow there. She moved the edges of the sheet out of her way so she wouldn't trip when she went to lay down, but a peculiar sound stopped her.

Someone crying.

Sobbing really, and desperately trying to stiffle the sound. Rodica frowned. Why did it sound familiar? She'd heard people crying all her life, and they'd all sounded the same to her. But this one…this one she knew…

An image of a golden haired girl with bright blue eyes and a cute, although pitifully tearful pout on her face flashed through her mind. She was sitting on the steps of…some place special. She was holding her knee. It was scrapped badly. Rodica felt bad, as if she had caused it…

Then the image was gone, as if it had never been. But one thing was the same. The girl in the vision had been sniffling the same pitiful tears that she was hearing now.

Rodica let her sheet fall away from her, and she walked, clad only in an almost sheer pink silk gown trimmed with red ribbon. She placed her hands on the smooth marble of the balcony banister railing, and leaned over it slightly, looking to her right then to her left at the other balconies. She looked above her, then below…

There. Directly below her, nestled in the arms of a man who's face was hidden by shadows, was a girl that was unmistakably familiar.

"Faesilvria…" Rodica murmured. She'd recognize that ridiculous hair style anywhere. What was she doing out of bed? Silvra had struck Rodica as a girl who loved her beauty sleep. Not only that, but a girl whom was hard to make sad, _truly_, genuinely sad, not the pouty tears nobly born ladies so often displayed in order to get attention. Rodica frowned. Had that man hurt her? Was he forced himself on her?

Rodica squinted through the darkness. No, the mutual tenderness with which they held each other was unmistakable. The couple below were soulmates. Rodica had seen enough of them in her dreams and visions to know them when she saw them.

As she watched, the man whispered something to her, and she gasped, pulling away slightly. Rodica could barely make out the expression of shocked delight on Silvra's sweetly innocent face. Rodica couldn't help but smile slightly. Somehow the thought of Silvra being happy made her happy. Enough other odd things had happened lately that Rodica didn't bother to question that fact, only absently pulled her amulet out from under her nightgown, fiddling with it absentmindedly as she watched the couple below.

The man, whose face was obscured by shadows, while Silvra's was illuminated by moonlight, said something else, and Silvra giggled, then sobered, her face sad once again. The man put his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. He pressed his forehead tenderly to hers, said something softly. Silvra's eyes widened slightly, filling with tears. She sobbed something that sounded faintly like 'I love you,' and threw herself deep into his arms, tears running down her face. The man lifted her face up to his once more, and bent his down to kiss her…

Rodica drew in a sharp breath as an even sharper pain lanced through her temples….

__

She walked through the corridors, wandering mindlessly. The ball she had planned was going on down below. Why wasn't she enjoying it? Even she didn't know for sure. She, along with all the other Senshi, were uneasy tonight. None of them wanted to admit what they all knew to the depths of their souls…

"Curse you, Beryl," She snarled as she glared up at the Earth, hovering in all its blue beauty above the Diana Palace. She sighed. She was tired. So very, very tired. Tired of fighting, tired of hating, tired of worrying…tired of missing the one she'd thought she'd loved…

The others assured her that Jedite hadn't gone over on his own accord. He must have been brainwashed.

She wasn't so sure. Perhaps that in itself was a sign that perhaps they hadn't meant to be. If she loved him, surely she should believe with all her heart that Jedite would never leave her willingly? The question of whether or not she'd ever truly loved him haunted her, because she knew she would never find out.

The sound of a familiar sobbing caught her ear. And she went to a large, arched window supported by two beams. She leaned out the window, listening… Down below, she looked, and saw a sight that made her heart twist.

Nestled in the arms of the Terran Prince, Prince Endymion, was her own princess, the one she, the warrior of Mars, was dedicated to protecting for the rest of her life. Princess Serenity.

They had just parted from a kiss, she knew. She also knew, just as they must have known, that it was probably their last kiss….

As abruptly as it had seized her, it released her.

Rodica, gasping, sweating, near panicking –for never before in her life had she had a vision so startlingly clear and detailed- glanced down again to see Silvra and the man part from a kiss….just like….just like she had seen the other couple…just like…

Rodica whirled, forgetting her pillow and sheet, and dashed back into her suite, headed for the shower. Then she would get some sleep after a cold dousing; she'd slept on more horrible things than a feather down bed.

"I don't understand why they can't just call an assembly, put us on thrones, give a light show, make the announcement, and then we kick out the bad boys," Rodica grumbled. "It would be so much simpler."

"Rodica's right," Jovia scowled. "On to of being simpler, it would be quicker, easier, and we wouldn't have to stand in line in this heat wearing these damned scratchy things!" To emphasis, Jovia yanked her stiff collar away from her throat and used her other hand to scratch at it with a vengeance.

"I second the 'damn these itchy things' part," Amenea said with a slight raise of her hand as she tugged at her own collar with the other hand.

"Oh, come on, guys!" Nenaphe said. "Look on the bright side; this is the most sunshine any of us a have ever seen!" At that, even Rodica had to grin.

"The sky _is_ a lovely shade of blue," The raven-haired beauty admitted. Jovia took in a deep breath.

"And the air is so much fresher!" Jovia had to smile. Amenea grinned. "And you can even hear the birds singing!" She added.

"That would be coming from that courtyard we crossed yesterday," Nenaphe said, motioning to where the tops of trees could be seen over a tall high brick wall.

"When is that meatball brains gonna get here?" Rodica sighed in frustration. "Once we reach that guard dude, we can't hold her place in line. She should have been here an hour ago!"

"Relax, Rodica," Nenaphe said gently. "You have to remember, Lady Silvra was pampered and humored from the day she was born. It will take a lot of getting used to, these rules and times and regulations. Give her some slack."

"I am giving her some slack by deliberately not predicting a horrible and painful death for leaving us out in the heat like this!" The fiery seeress held her ponytail up away from her sweaty neck.

"Calm down, Roddie," Amenea laughed. "It's not like the line will go any faster if she's here!"

"And how come the lines are so long, anyway?" Jovia frowned. "I thought Rubar had said the Elite was going down in popularity, and there has to be at least a hundred people in front of us waiting to sign up, and who knows how many behind."

"Most of them are probably desperate, dillusional, were forced to sign up, or are just like the ones that have made the Elite unpopular in the first place; selfish and power hungry." Nenaphe pointed out.

"And we're the best thing they've come up with to remedy that?" Jovia snorted. "Seems to me they've gotten dumber as well as more evil."

"Are you saying you can't get the job done?" Rodica asked slyly. Jovia growled.

"I'm saying that they had no way of knowing that we can do anything. They might as well have picked prostitutes, and then they would have been in real trouble. They're lucky I'm the one that resembles their Sailor Jupiter, else I wouldn't be on the team and you guys would really be in trouble."

"Oh, really?" Rodica raised an eyebrow. Jovia smirked. "Yeah, really." They glared at each other for a moment, before laughing and hugging each other lightly around the shoulders. Amenea and Nenaphe blinked and looked at each other, wearing mirroring expressions that said 'did we miss something?'

They were unable to voice their question, however, as all four of them went toppling over as a golden, silver and gray -the color of their cadet uniforms- barreled into them, screeching something that sounded like 'so sorry I'm late!'

"Get off us, Meatball head!" Rodica yelled. It took a few minutes of eye-poking and foot stomping and elbow jarring, not to mention a few more half-laughing name callings, but eventually the five girls got themselves straightened out and on their feet. Ignoring the stares and smirks they were receiving, they dusted off their stiff, scratchy gray try out uniforms -which consisted of nicely fitted dress pants, with tight, spandex type capri pants underneath, white tank top and gray jacket that from half way up the chest was unbuttoned.

"Oh, gosh, guys, I'm really sorry!" Silvra said, apologizing over and over again, wringing her hands as she watched them all examine their bruises and brush off more dust and finger-comb mussed hair.

"I really am sorry..." Silvra bit her lip as she offered one last apology.

"It's all right, Serena," Nenaphe smiled, laughing softly in amusement; the girl really was quite amusing.

"Huh?" Silvra blinked along with the other three girls. Nenaphe blinked and blushed.

"D-Did I say something wrong?" She asked, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"You called Silvra 'Serena,' Neph," Jovia said with a puzzled look on her face.

"Yeah, Aims, what's up with that?" Rodica added. The stares now turned to her. "What?" She demeaned. Then her eyes widened. "Oh..." She said. Why had she called Nenaphe 'Aims?' What an odd name...

"Weird..." Jovia murmured.

"Double weird." Amenea agreed, and swallowed. So she wasn't the only one...

"This is totally freaky," Silvra said. "But Kana called me 'Serena' this morning, too. And she didn't even realized she'd said it, either."

"Hey, you know, this all started when I got caught," Jovia said.

"You mean it's been happening to you, too?" Nanephe blinked. Jovia nodded.

"I can't count the times I've mentally, and almost out loud called you 'Amy;' or 'Ami.'" Jovia said.

"But I've been accidentally calling Amenea 'Mina' or 'Minako' for almost a year," Rodica countered.

"Really?" Amenea asked. "I never noticed."

"I noticed when you called me Raye," Rodica told her. Amenea looked sheepish.

"Guys, this is starting to freak me out," Silvra said, swallowing. "This morning, after Kana called me Serena, she said that a few days ago I accidentally called her Hotaru."

"So it probably has nothing to do with the Elite," Amenea summed. "Three of us have had it happening since- Oh my gosh!" She exclaimed. Under curious and puzzled looks, she pulled out a golden ring on a thin silk cord out from under her uniform and held it up. Rodica, seeing what she meant, pulled out her own amulet. Following suit, Jovia and Nenaphe pulled out theirs.

"I see you got my gift," Amenea nodded towards the pen with the amulet mounted atop it. Nenaphe blushed and smiled.

"Yes," She said. "And it works wonderfully."

"Glad you like it," Amenea said. "But now I've got a question for-"

"Hey, there, wenches, get a move on!" A gruff voice barked. To their utter humiliation, there was a good twenty meters between them and the boys that had been ahead of them; while they had been talking, the line had moved quite a bit. Snickers echoed throughout the street as the girls blushed and ran to catch up, tucking their amulets under their shirts. But only Silvra saw each amulet simultaneously, for the briefest instant, glow faintly. When they had caught up, Silvra, hesitantly, reached up and touched the small lump under her shirt, between her breasts; she feared being without her Crystal now.

The moment her fingers brushed the orb through the thin material of her shirt, the amulets glowed once more. Silvra took her hand away. The glowing stopped.

The line moved again, and Silvra forced her hand to stay at her side as she swallowed.

What did all this mean?

Amenea surveyed the room with an expression that told people that looked at her that she clearly had no idea why she was here. Or any notion of how do work the assorted machines, or perform various acts trainers were requiring possible trainees to do to test their level of physical fitness and endurance.

At least, that was what Amenea intended for people to think when they looked at her. Outwardly, she was a clueless blonde. On the inside, however, her mental gears were working overtime.

__

"Man, some of these guys are buff…" Amenea thought. If she didn't already know for a fact that their getting into the Elite Cadet Academy was set by Rubar himself, regardless of how they did on the tests, she would have been worried. But only slightly. She and Jovia exchanged knowing, secretive, cat like grins. Rodica smirked, and while Nenaphe was nervous about the physical exams, she felt confident that her mind skills would earn her enough points on the mental exams to get her in, even without Rubar's help.

"Um, guys…." Silvra said.

"What, Meatball brains?" Rodica asked, eyes twinkling. Silvra paused long enough to glare at Rodica before stating her question.

"I hate to be the pessimist of the group for the moment," She said. "But…um….I've kind of…never….even done a…I've never even done a push up in my life…"

"You've got to be kidding…." Jovia said. "I don't mean to sound like a pervert, but it's not exactly discreet that you've got a great body, girl. How could you look so…so…well, so in shape if you never exercise."

"I have no idea," Silvra laughed nervously, clutching her Crystal through her shirt and raising her other hand to scratch the back of her head, giving her shaking hands something to do.

"You take dancing, though, right?" Amenea asked. "I mean, aren't ballet and balance and poise lessons all part of the nobleborn gig? That's gotta give you a bit of something to start with."

"Yeah…I guess…" Silvra blushed.

"Let me guess," Rodica rolled her eyes. "You stink at dancing."

"Well…I wouldn't say stink…." Silvra fidgeted. "But I'm…um…well, you guys saw…and felt for yourselves earlier… I'm not the most coordinated person…"

"We noticed." Jovia said dryly. Silvra flushed forced another nervous, embarrassed laugh.

"Hey, little girls, the Holo-video auditions are down the street in the Broadway building." Called a man who looked to me some sort of coach began walking towards them with a slight sneer on his face. Jovia growled deep in her throat, one fist clenched. She took a step forward, when Silvra latched onto her arm.

"Don't do anything stupid!" She pleaded. "We don't need any enemies!"

"He made one anyway," Jovia snapped, but she relaxed and Silvra let go. Nenaphe touched her shoulder in thanks for stopping the fiery brunette.

"Is he blind and can't see our uniforms and the sign up slips?" Rodica muttered. "We've all pinned them to our jackets in plain sight."

"I think it's more a case of a combo pervert and brain dead syndrome," Silvra muttered flatly.

"Well, you sure would know about the latter, wouldn't you?" Rodica smirked as Silvra glowered.

"Trainees number 506 and 507, to mat number eighteen." A man on a platform read from a chart in his hand, small crystal and machine device held in his hand near his face to magnify his voice.

"507, that's me," Amenea said, checking the signed slip of paper pinned to her right breast pocket, grinning brightly. "Wish me luck!" She flashed a 'v is for victory' sign and dashed off, a spring in her run, to a mat that was halfway across the massive gym like room that they had entered after signing in. She regretted, as she reached that mat, that the Trainees were not allowed to cross a red line that was four meters away from the wall unless called to a test or exam; she would have liked to be able to hear their cheering for her. But, luckily, they had a pretty clear view from where they were, so at least she knew they'd be watching.

Amenea stood at the edge of the match, watching the previous match take place. From watching, Amenea guessed that one person was a 'chaser' and the other person was the 'elusive.' The elusive had to keep out of the reach of the chaser for as long as possible. As soon as the chaser managed to touch the elusive, they switched.

The match finished; the bigger guy had won, for despite his size, he was quick. The smaller guy, thinking he would be quicker, had lost.

Another young man, no more than eighteen, stepped onto the mat, shirtless. Amenea's breath caught. She was known for her fickleness when it came to crushes and love, but something alien squeezed around her so called fickle heart…

Amenea mentally shook herself.

__

"Get ahold of yourself," she told herself harshly. _"You've stayed alive this long by _not_ trusting men!"_

"Hey, girlie, wanna give us a kiss?" A bystander made a loud, wet, smacking kissing noise. Amenea ignored him easily as she slipped off her gray jacket, hard pressed to keep from sighing from the relief that came with the absence of the scratchy material against her throat and arms. She thought of taking off her pants and going down to the white tank top and spandex capris, but saw the number of men watching and decided not-

On second thought…

Making sure to show off her slender curves and supple muscles and grace, Amenea stepped out of the itchy pants as well and carefully placed them with her jacket. Catcalls immediately ensued, but to Amenea's disappointment, her opponent barely glanced at the areas that seemed to be like nectar to a bee for the other males present. The bees being the eyes.

Okay, so the womanly wiles wouldn't be much help with this guy… That was all right. She still had plenty of other types of ammunition. 

"Hey, wench, I thought I told you to scram," The same coach type man that had sneered at them all earlier approached Amenea now. Amenea turned, hands on hips, having just finished tying her hair back.

"No, you informed us that there was an audition down the street," Amenea said. The man scowled.

"Idiot woman," He said scornfully. "How stupid can your gender get? It was a clear indication that you should leave."

"Number 507, let's go," Snapped a man with a clipboard that had been overseeing the previous match from across the mat. Amenea's opponent grinned, but, Amenea was intrigued to see, it was not an unkind smile, nor a lustful one.

"This is a joke, Ardis," The coach snapped to the man on the platform. "She was just leaving. Call another trainee," The coach gripped her arm and turned towards the door. Across the room, she saw Rodica and Jovia both being barely restrained by Nenaphe. Silvra only regarded her with an oddly knowing look in her eye. Amenea winked at them, and Jovia, suddenly grinning, yanked Rodica back and whispered in her ear. The Seeress scowled, but calmed herself.

Amenea dug in her heels, and the coach-dude found himself suddenly not making any progress towards his destination; Amenea was stronger than she looked.

"I said, you were just leaving," The man hissed. He suddenly became aware that everyone within a twenty-foot radius was watching them. Amenea only smiled sweetly.

"Yes, you did," She said. The smile turned wicked. "But I didn't." She flexed her bicep, forcing the man's fingers around her arm to be parted just enough for her to wrench her arm free and take a step back. He grabbed her again, by the wrist this time. Amenea frowned.

"Please release my wrist," She asked, keeping her tone even. "I have a test to take."

"Quite playing games, whore," He spat. A purple vein in his temple popped out slightly…

"What did you call me?" Amenea's eyes flashed. Her sudden change in expression and posture, bringing herself to her full height so suddenly that the coach-dude stumbled back, would have been comical had the anger radiating off her not been so…well, intimidating.

"Come on, we all say the way you had no qualms about displaying your goods for the world to see," The coach growled, regaining some of his composure, his hand still clasped like a vice over Amenea's wrist. Amenea pursed her lips. With a deft twist known only to those of the trade of thieves, Amenea freed her hand, looking like all she'd done was flick her wrist to do so.

"You use everything you have as a weapon, sir," Amenea told him. "If you haven't learned that, then the Elite are in desperate need of men with brains." She turned, and walked calmly back to the mat, very aware of every eye in the room on her. She looked up at the man on the platform, his mouth open slightly. She raised an eyebrow at him, and, stumbling over himself for a moment, re-announced the match once more.

"You may give your names," The platform-man told them. Amenea's opponent smiled slightly.

"I am William Primus," He said with a bow.

"My name's Amenea Harte," Amenea said with a flair, tossing her long, hastily done braid over her shoulder. "Shall we?" she asked. William smiled.

"We shall."

A buzzer was sounded, and the match began.

Amenea, for the first half of the round, was the elusive; she was to try and stay out of her opponent's reach for as long as possible. Sizing up her opponent, she reminded herself not to get cocky like the smaller participant in the last match had. They circled each other, watching, William waiting for an opening and Amenea tense, ready to leap aside.

William saw his opening; a tear in the mat. Amenea hadn't seen it. He lunged. She whirled to the side. Her toe caught in the tear and she fell back on her bum. He pranced forward, arm outstretched to tag her. Arching her back and using every muscle in her body, Amenea pushed herself up off the ground, got her hands under her, and hoisted her body into a handstand that she converted into a backflip.

"Impressive," William granted as he stood. Amenea was more wary, now; he was quick and he knew how to use his surroundings to his advantage.

"Returned," Amenea mutually granted the compliment. "If you ever visit Alalia-below, you might actually last more than a few minutes."

"I thank you for your kind assessment, fine lady," William smiled. Amenea smiled back.

Then William dived. Amenea leaped, forward-flipping up and over him.

Amenea gasped, grunted, then went tumbling through the air, landing harshly on the mat; he had grabbed her ankle. Cheers went up as Amenea, laughing, rolled over onto her back.

"Round one has been completed at one minute, 2 seconds!" The man on the platform announced. "Round two commences…" Amenea stood up, shook herself off, and William both backed up a few paces to stand on opposite sides of the mat once more.

"Now!"

They circled each other, both of them watching each other more closely than ever.

Amenea leaped.

William ducked under her.

Amenea landed, bending her knees to absorb the impact, graceful as a cat. She kicked out behind her. William jumped, tucking his legs under him as Amenea whirled around and shot out a hand, grabbing William's ankle, gave a yank, and set him sprawling. Amenea placed a foot heavily on his back, between his shoulder blades.

"Round two has been completed at 56 seconds!" The man announced. There were cheers. Amenea stepped back, expecting there to be a scowl of contempt on William's face. Except, as he dusted himself off, there was only an appreciating glint in his eyes, a complimentary smile on his lips.

William took her hand, kissed it lightly, and without a word, turned, and left.

Amenea touched a warm cheek.

She blinked.

She was _blushing_? She'd never blushed for real before…

"All in favor or retracting our agreement to go along with this, raise your hand…" Jovia grumbled wearily as she all but collapsed at the base of a tree in a lush, breathtakingly lovely courtyard.

The response was an assortment of groans.

"And we gotta do this again _tomorrow_?" Silvra whined.

"Oh, stuff it, Meatball head," Rodica reached over and ruffled Silvra's bangs, her movements stiff from soreness.

"It's not fair!" Silvra pouted. "You guys are at least somewhat used to all this, and you guys did really well- in the top ten on the scoreboards!"

"You did just fine, Silvra," Nenaphe told her.

"I was in the _bottom_ ten!" Silvra cried. "That's not 'fine!"

"I was in the bottom ten, as well, Silvra," Nenaphe pointed out gently.

"Yeah, but you were number one, on a list of five hundred, in the brainiac stuff!" Silvra sniffed. "But I didn't even see my name on it!"

They were all silent for a moment.

Nenaphe glanced at the broken looking Silvra. She was so used to being told she was good at everything she did, being pampered and kissed up to as a high born lady. She was very well aware that she wasn't all that good at very many things, but this was the first time she'd ever actually had to face the music, the first time her faults had been up for the world to see…

And yet, Nenaphe refused to believe that the girl was actually as incompetent as she, and everyone else, seemed to think she was.

Nenaphe got an idea.

"I'll be right back," Nenaphe, with a wince borne from bone deep weariness, rose to her feet off a padded bench and limped back into the main building. The testing had just ended no more than ten minutes ago, Nenaphe and the girls having left as soon as they'd all found themselves and their scores on the large digital scoreboard taking up an entire wall.

But taking up much less space, only ten square feet, on another wall was another scoreboard. Nenaphe limped to it, and, starting at the bottom, began looking for a certain name. When she was nearing the top and still hadn't seen that particular name, she began to get worried…

But there was no need. Right there, at the very top, was the name Faesilvria Monstrahl.

With a satisfied smile, Nenaphe turned, and left.

Looks like the little blonde princess had a few hidden talents of her own after all….

****

To Be Continued…

__

Ta-da!

Sorry it took so long, peeps! Okay, now, voting time. Do you want a) Amenea/Trippar to be a couple, or b) Amenea/William to be a couple? I'm having a serious Mina(Amenea) pairing delimma here!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!

Oh, btw, everyone give a bit 'round of applause for my beta reader, Tuxedo Starr (I call him Byrd-chan! ^.^) and my editor, my lovely Raven, who is the best boyfriend on the planet.

Talk to ya later, everyone! And remember:

Review.

Button.

Be.

Friend!

Ja!

Hope Makes the Universe Shine,

Makura Koneko

****

ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY


	6. Chapter Five

**__**

Shattered Tapestry

By Makura Koneko

**__**

Chapter Five

****

In the last installment of _Shattered Tapestry_…

__

"I'll be right back," Nenaphe, with a wince borne from bone deep weariness, rose to her feet off a padded bench and limped back into the main building. The testing had just ended no more than ten minutes ago, Nenaphe and the girls having left as soon as they'd all found themselves and their scores on the large digital scoreboard that took up an entire wall.

But taking up much less space, only ten square feet, on another wall was another scoreboard. Nenaphe limped to it, and, starting at the bottom, began looking for a certain name. When she was nearing the top and still hadn't seen that particular name, she began to get worried…

But there was no need. Right there, at the very top, was the name Faesilvria Monstrahl.

With a satisfied smile, Nenaphe turned, and left.

Looks like the little blonde princess had a few hidden talents of her own after all…

****

And now the Continuation…

Nenaphe bit her lip gently in thought as she glanced at the golden haired, bubbly girl beside her. Silvra was practically skipping, a happy smile on her face for no reason at all, whereas only a few moments ago, when Nenaphe had left to check…something, she had been as exhausted as the rest of them. Nenaphe made a mental note to try and figure out where this tiny girl got her seemingly endless supply of spunk and energy.

But ahead of that little mental note was the decision on how –and when- to inform Silvra of what she had found when she had gone to check on 'something.' Also, she was beginning to wonder if she shouldn't…if maybe someone else was to tell her. While Nenaphe didn't see why it would be inappropriate to inform a friend of some good news, she didn't want to breach any protocols. They were going to have enough trouble as it was keeping their own among so many well trained men…

"Bet you ladies thought you did pretty well for yourselves," A voice said coldly. That was all. It just cold. Not sneering, or scorning, or amused, just simply cold and emotionless.

Jovia, Amenea, Nenaphe, Rodica, - all still limping slightly- and a ever bouncy Silvra turned looked away from their destination, the double doors leading out of the Courtyard and into the East Elite Tower, to face a group of six young men, maybe a few years older than them. They all wore the uniform that an Elite Cadet in their last year of training would wear. Considering that the Training Year was almost over, they were mostly likely expecting to take their Ordeals soon.

"No," Rodica said casually to the speaker- a young man with shoulderblade length hair that was died a fashionable pale blue-silver was pulled back at the nape of his neck, a few tendrils hanging down beside his face. "We don't _think_ we did well." Rodica smirked. "We _know_ we did well. Or did you forget to do your research and not look at the scoreboards? Even the Professors and your own trainers had to give us a high score."

Nenaphe glanced at the seeress… Well, it was true. Rubar had sworn the professors and trainers into making sure we excelled, grade-wise, no matter how horrible we really were. So they _had_ had to give them high scores, even though Nenaphe had a feeling they would have done pretty well even without that particular fact.

"Just watch your back," The bitter words were spoken by the boy standing to the right of the first young man that had spoken. He, too, had long hair, but it was brown and wavy and hung loose, though it looked like it had been restrained at one point in the day.

"We always do," Jovia responded, arms crossed over her chest. And indeed, even the boys had to notice the way that they all, even Nenaphe, held themselves with an awareness that even they, trainees of the Elite, had to envy.

The silver-blue haired man's eyes narrowed as he suddenly spied their positions; standing in a semi half arch, as if to form a shield before the smallest of them all. A slip of a girl, with curious, bright, innocent sapphire eyes speckled with silver, and golden hair that, when the light glanced off it just right, also looked silver.

An odd emotion welled up inside him…he became puzzled at himself…protectiveness? He felt…protective towards that girl? Lovely, she was, with an air of childlike wisdom about her. He could somehow tell –why did this 'being able to tell' feel strangely like remembrance?- that she saw the world as no one else did, with the simplicity and optimism of a child. Like she was able to find a rainbow admists every storm.

He shook himself mentally.

"My name is Kumal," The silver-blue haired man said. "Remember it."

They turned, as one, and left.

"They must be the 'high court' of the Elite cadets," Amenea said after a moment. Jovia nodded.

"They must feel threatened by us." Rodica mussed.

"Why would they find us threatening?" Silvra asked, honestly puzzled. "We did nothing to offend them."

"Yes, we did," Jovia put her hand on Silvra's shoulder. "We did good in the testing."

"Yes, you did good," Silvra said. None of them missed the word 'you' rather than 'we.' "But there were others above us on the scoreboards. Why did they choose to be threatened by us?"

"Because we're a team," Amenea said. "And they can see that. Anyone could see it. The people above us on the scoreboards? They don't even know each other. They're no threat because they aren't a…a unity, like we are. We, if we want to, are good enough and unified enough that we could take over."

"That could work to our advantage," Rodica said after a moment. "To make people believe we are the reincarnated Senshi-" She ignored the odd twinge of emotion in her belly at that. "-we'll have to display amazing traits. These people believe the Senshi to be almost Goddesses. We'll have to make a name for ourselves here, and not by force. We want these people to like us, but at the same time we don't want them to think we're weak."

During this statement, the group had collectively begun once more their journey to their corridor –the long hallway, and since it only had five doors, one to each of their rooms, they had begun to call it 'their' corridor.

"How can we do that?" Nenaphe asked. "You saw those six. Not only do they outnumber us, but they do appear to by physically stronger, and they have the advantage. We can't set ourselves up as the 'higher court,' as you put it, Mina, until we-"

"You did it again." Amenea said with an amused grin. Nenaphe blinked. "O-oh…oh…I did, didn't I…I apologize."

"Na, don't worry about it," Said the blonde with a flippant wave of her hand. "I kinda like the name. Anywayz, you're right. We have to do something about the Generals before we can take their place."

"Generals?" Jovia echoed. Amenea blinked, then shrugged.

"It seems right…" Silvra said. "Freakily appropriate. 'The Generals.'"

"It does, doesn't it?" Rodica tilted her head as she glanced out a window they were passing. Briefly, the dream from the night before flashing to her memory, and she blinked, frowned, and shook her head to dispel the memory. None of the other girls noticed, continuing to ponder.

At last, Nenaphe shook her head. "I, for once, am at a loss for a suggestion as to a course of action to upsure the General's rule over the Elite Cadets and replace them, without making us look like tyrants."

"We don't."

"Oh, I know we don't look like tyrants, but if we-"

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant," Silvra said quickly.

"Then kindly explain," Rodica said flatly. Silvra stuck her tongue out at her, but the action seemed more good natured than spiteful, and Rodica ignored it with an amused twinkle in her eye.

"I think that up…ups…er…"

"Upsuring?"

"Yeah, thanks Neph," Silvra looked slightly sheepish. "I think," She continued. "That if we tried to take their place, in the way you guys are thinking, we'll still end up looking like a preppy ring of princesses, no matter how we go about it."

"You have a point…?"  


"I'm getting there, hothead," Silvra waved off Rodica's interjection. Amenea swallowed a snicker as Nenaphe put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. Jovia only smirked at her glowering friend.

"To finally get to my point," Silvra said as they neared their Corridor. "I think that, rather than try and take their place, we…well, we join them."

"W-what?" Jovia blinked.

"You heard me," Silvra said. "We make friends. Get into their circle. Get our two groups to merge, so that we're both the 'higher court.' Then once they graduate from the Academy and get sent away on their first assignments, _we'll_ be the High Court of the Academy. No bloody fights or contests of wit to see whose the best. That way no one will be angry at us for soiling the Generals' reputation, and we'll have ourselves seats as the Academy's most elite cadets."

"Y'know, that actually makes sense, meatball head," Rodica said, ruffling Silvra's hair. Silvra grinned and threw her arms around Rodica and hugged her tight, despite herself. Rodica, once she overcame her surprise, laughed and hugged her back.

"Don't get any ideas, meatball brains," Rodica told her, holding up one finger as if she'd just got done teaching a lesson. "I won't always let you get off that easy when you say something smart."

"Whatever you say," Silvra chirped cheerfully, and the girls laughed. They linked arms, walked thus the rest of the way to their Corridor, then bid each other a momentary farewell as they retreated to their rooms to change for orientation dinner with the rest of the trainees that had passed the tests. Since this was the first day, they were allowed to wear their much nicer, much fancier, much cooler and much more comfortable formal uniforms.

"How did you do?" Kana asked, coming out of Silvra's bedroom, clad in a short black skirt and purple blouse, with angel sleeves, the bottom points of which reached her knees.

"Awful, as usual," Silvra grumbled and collapsed onto the couch. Kana, knowing her mistress and best friend was in one of her melodramatic moods, simply smiled in amused sympathy.

"I'll run you a hot bath," She said. Silvra groaned. "And ring you up some milk and cookies."

"Chocolate milk?" Silvra perked. Kana laughed.

"Chocolate milk, and frosting on the cookies," She said. Silvra jumped up and hugged her. "You're the best!" She said. "I'm gonna go take a cat nap. Wake me up when the baths ready or the cookies are here, whichever comes first!" With that, she bounded into her room, leaving Kana to laugh.

Two hours later, at the orientation dinner, the girls entered together, chatting, looking as best as they could in the black uniforms of the elite cadets; a short black skirt, since they were girls, fitted white shirt, black vest, and black ankle boots, all accented with silver. Hair and make-up styled to perfection, they walked, arms linked, in sync. They chatted and laughed gaily as they entered and spotted seats at a table near the High Table on a dais at the back of the large room. All eyes turned to watch them as they made their way down the center of the room.

They looked like they had not a care in the world. They walked with poise and careless grace, their movements unconsciously predatory in their sleekness. They seemed aware of everything, yet they did not care.

"Goddesses…" One boy murmured. Another picked up on it, and echoed it. Yet two more cadets heard it, and whispered to each other how it fit.

And so, without meaning to, that boy accidentally gave the five girls a title that, even in the years to come they would never loose.

The Goddesses.

It was fitting that, at the moment of their dubbing, the group that everyone thought would now have competition in the Goddesses entered. The Generals, the girls were surprised, but pleased to discover that 'the Generals' was what they were already called.

Silence rose up in the dining hall, and the girls turned away from their destination to face the six Generals.

The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a cold knife.

But I suppose that some cosmic force thought that a blast that blew everyone backwards was sufficient, for just as Silvra was about to say something, a sphere of dark purple-red power flashed into existence with a blast that tossed everyone back at least ten feet.

When everyone was able to look again, Silvra, without meaning to, gasped.

"_Beryl_!" She cried.

Something on her forehead began to glow…

****

To Be Continued…

Yes, I know, I said nothing till October, but mom surprised us and gave us all a day off from packing, so I decided to do this since all my friends were busy. Also sorry that it's shorter than the others, but I've also come down with a bit of a writer's block for this fic. Ideas, anyone? Suggestions, if used, will be given credit for.

Oh, and don't forget to check out my new fic; 'The Will of the Ring.' Yes, I've written a LotR/Sailor Moon Crossover. And get this: I got fifteen reviews in the first 12 hours of the prologue being posted!!!! I was soooo shocked! But nonetheless happy…so since it seems more people like WotR (Will of the Ring) better than ST (Shattered Tapestry) I may start to divert more attention to that fic, just as a warning.

Anyhoo, hope you all enjoyed! Ja ne!

****

Hope Makes the Universe Shine,

Makura Koneko

****

ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY


	7. Chapter Six

Shattered Tapestry  
By Makura Koneko  
  
E-mail: makura_koneko@hotmail.com  
  
Chapter Six  
  
In the last installment of Shattered Tapestry…  
  
  
  
  
Silence rose up in the dining hall, and the girls turned away from their destination to face the six Generals.  
The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a cold knife.  
But I suppose that some cosmic force thought that a blast that blew everyone backwards was sufficient, for just as Silvra was about to say something, a sphere of dark purple-red power flashed into existence with a blast that tossed everyone back at least ten feet.  
When everyone was able to look again, Silvra, without meaning to, gasped.  
"Beryl!" She cried.  
Something on her forehead began to glow…  
  
  
And Now the Continuation...  
  
  
  
  
Something flooded over the fivesome that stood together before the volumtiously curvy woman, clad in blood red and dark purple, that unfurled from the sphere of dark light in the center of the Grand Hall.  
  
Something overcame them, something much more than mere daja'vu or familiarity.  
  
Instinct filled their very beings, and they took up positions around the creature so swiftly it was almost as if they had almost expected this new arrival whom was screeching obscinities and blasting everything in sight.  
  
They exchanged looks, and something passed between them all...they nodded, and their unspoken plan was initiated.  
  
"Hey, freak-face!" Amenea shouted, grabbing one of the chains on the floor near her that had previously been used to hold up the grand chandelier that lay shattered a ways away.   
  
The creature Sylvia had called 'Beryl' looked her way. Yes, she the inhuman woman did strike a bell in Amenea's mind to the word 'Beryl' and yet...something was off...not quite right...  
  
"What did you call me, mortal?" 'Beryl' hissed. Amenea smirked, and began swinging the chain confidently.  
  
"You heard her, vile creature," a voice Amenea recognized boomed from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Kamul, the 'leader' of the Generals standing behind and to her right. He glanced at her; he had her back. A quick glance showed that the other Generals had taken up positions alongside othe members of the 'Goddess' group. Whether or not the Generals knew their plan and had decided to support the girls, or if they had had the the same plan, it didn't really matter. Back up was a good thing.  
  
"Tell me, Beryl," Amenea shouted. "Who did your make-over? Whoever did it, you should sue!" Beryl roared her rage and flung a lightning bolt towards her; Amenea skipped aside, Kumal beside her. she had to keep the creature distracted, keep her from looking behind her, where Rodica and Jovia were scrambling up one of the pillars, each holding the end of a sturdy chain...or to where Sylvia lay in waiting, sword in hand; where she had gotten, it, Amenea didn't dare question.  
  
Amenea briefly wondered where the other trainees had gone, and snorted in disgust when she realized they had all fled. Then again, at least she and the other girls didn't have to worry about anyone else getting caught in the fight.  
  
Beryl sniffed, her cat-like eyes flashing with rage and dark power...yet somehow, Amenea wasn't affected...she didn't feel the stab of fear that she felt she should feel at the sight of this creature...  
  
'Beryl' began to turn to where Raye and Lit- Amenea shook herself. What was up with those other names they kept calling each other??? Amenea gasped; Beryl was seconds away from spotting the girls!  
  
"What are you doing back so soon, Beryl?" Amenea shouted the first words that came to mind. "The Underworld too good for you? You want to die again at our hands? We'll gladly deliver!" What was she saying? Underworld? Kill Beryl 'again?'  
  
Ameana looked past 'Beryl' -whom was spitting obscinities left and right- and met Rodica's eyes. Rodica nodded; she and Jovia were ready.  
  
"Yo, Beryl?" Amenea crowed sweetly. Beryl's attention snapped to the girl. Something in the back of Amenea's mind flickered; this was too easy, she thought, as she thought about what Rodica and Jovia were going to do; leap from the pillar towards Beryl's neck, chain pulled taught between them, the girls swing around, wrapping the chain tightly about her neck, jumping over the back of her shoulders to hang down and pull the chain taught, choking her, while Nenaphe, ready under a nearby table, would lash out with a long pole to trip the beastress and Sylvia would run out and stab Beryl...  
  
Simple...  
  
Yet they were accomplishing their plan too easily...  
  
In a moment, Amenea saw why...  
  
As Rodica and Jovia leaped, Beryl whired around, her claw-like fingernails extending in the blink of an eye till they were genuine claws; she was going to skewer Rodica and Jovia in midair!  
  
Time froze...  
  
Air stopped...  
  
All at once, Amenea could hear every heartbeat in the room...in the building...in the town...in the country...  
  
Every heartbeat on the planet...  
  
Amenea's eyes filled with golden-orange light, blocking out the baby blue.  
  
The ring bearing that odd symbol at Amenea's throat pulsed ever so slightly...  
  
Faint, gently fizzing sparkles of golden-orange drizzled into existence, like a tiny cloud of even tinier stars, around Amenea's right hand, the hand clutching the chain.  
  
The world around her seemed to be frozen...and all at once, the only heartbeat she could hear was her own...she closed her eyes, and listened...it whispered to her, her own heart...and she listened...  
  
Amenea opened her eyes.  
  
And threw the chain.  
  
  
  
Sylvia, from her hiding place, gasped and stiffled a scream...  
  
'No!' She thought furiously. Nonononononono!!!!! Rodica! Jovia! They were ever nearing those perilous daggers of claws...  
  
"No!" Sylvia cried out, launcing herself out from behind the pillar, sword held out before her; Beryl's back was to her, maybe she could get there in time. She lunged at Beryl...  
  
At the exact same time a golden chain lashed out to wrap around both of Beryl's arms, yanking them aside so that Rodica and Jovia safely tucked and rolled in midair, landing safely behind Sylvia. It was all happening too fast! Sylvia glimpsed her chance, as Beryl was pulled to the side by that golden chain, yanked by her own imprisoned hands. Sylvia saw that chance, but didn't know, as she lashed out with her sword, thrusting all her strength into the act, if she could make it...  
  
It was in that moment that something filled Sylvia, something...alien, yet not. It was like greeting a friend that she knew so much about, yet had never met...or had simply forgotten. That something grabbed ahold of Sylvia's muscles, of her body, guiding her movements...  
  
With expert ease Sylvia's arms and body were guided, and thus Sylvia easily swung at Beryl's exposed neck out before her, leaping forward as she did so...  
  
The sword sliced cleanly through the evil enchantress's throat as Sylvia forward-flipped up and over, landing on the other side of the now beheaded Beryl.  
  
Time resumed it's normal flow, then, and the body and head of the beastress landed with a sickening thud. The golden chain lost its glow, and clattered to the floor as Amenea collapsed. Kamul, surprise all over his face, caught her. Nenaphe got up from under the table, dropping her pole with a loud thunk as she stood beside Rodica and Jovia...all three of them staring in shock...but not at the carnage that should have been there, nor at Sylvia's performance. No, they stood, staring in shock at the beheaded...  
  
Robot?  
  
"A test..." Nenaphe whispered, the first to put it together.  
  
Clapping was heard, as the General with the long brown hair pulled back at the nape of his neck clapped. "Very good," he said.  
  
"You...you were in on this?" Rodica breathed, her eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
"We all were," Kamul said, helping Amenea back to her feet.  
  
"Wha..." Sylvia gasped. "Why?" She breathed.  
  
"Miss Nenaphe said it," the General with the long, wavy brown hair, loose, said. "A test of sorts. We have one every year."  
  
"Every year," the blonde one said. "At orientation, we set up some sort of hidden test. This is the first year we've ever had an actual attack as our test. In this case, the ones that at least stayed behind to try and counteract the attack passed. You, although, passed with flying colors, for actually bringing down the threat."  
  
"You're not cadets, are you?" Jovia said darkly. They shook their heads. "Then who the hell are you?" She growled.  
  
"We are the Generals, that is all you need know," Kamul said. No one got a chance to say anything more; the cadets started coming back in, all with expressions of guilt, anger, bitterness, or embarrassment on their faces; they had been briefed outside the same way the girls had just been 'briefed' by the Generals.  
  
It was then that the Goddesses got treated to a very imposing view of who they knew must be Commander Tarvol, head training master for the Elite Cadets. He was a tall man, wide set in the nature of his broard shoulders and muscled torso, legs, arms...muscled everything. His skin was the color of dark, uncooked cocoa, Sylvia couldn't help but make the comparison...and his expression was just as bitter.  
  
"Only five girls?" He barked. "Out of all you so called 'promising' lads here, the ones that stayed behind to not only face the enemy but actually defeat it in under ten minutes, were five *women?*"  
  
Jovia snarled and stepped forward...  
  
Syvlia grabbed her arm. "Don't make us any enemies!" She hissed. She wasn't the daughter of a politician for nothing. Jovia growled deep in her throat, but calmed herself.  
  
Commander Tarvol approached the, his hands clasped behind his back.  
  
"Straighten up! In a line! *Now!*"  
  
They dare not disobey, and in record time the five girls were perfectly lined up, backs straight, faces blank -save for the slight snarl still on Jovia's lips and the flashing fire in Rodica's eyes- as they stood before their Commander.  
  
"Tell me, you little mama lap dogs," The man growled as he looked them all up and down. "What was the first thing that came to your mind when you saw an obviously offensive enemy?"  
  
"Protect everyone." Sylvia said automatically without thinking. Kamul, a ways away, let his lips quirk slightly as his companions beside him winced, knowing what was to come...  
  
"*WRONG!*" Tarvol boomed. "THE FIRST THOUGHT THAT COMES TO YOUR MIND IS *'DESTROY ENEMY AT ALL COSTS!!!* Do you get me?"  
  
"No."  
  
The Hall suddenly became very, very quiet...  
  
"What did you say to me, little girl?" Tarvol bent so that his face was level with Sylvia's. She swallowed, but her eyes were determined, and her chin set in stubborness just the same.  
  
"I said, sir, that I don't get you." Sylvia swallowed; it was too late to go back now... Bravely she pressed on, staring straight into Tarvol's face. "You are supposed to train us to become Elite Officers. Day used to be that the entire purpose fo the very creation of the Elite was to protect the innocent, *then* destroy the evil, not prove how macho you are by blowing up everything in sight and manhandling everything you can just because you can."  
  
Silence...  
  
Then Tarvol stood up, and, of all things, smiled! He patted the -considerably- shorter girl on the head.  
  
"Very good," he said. "It's about time."  
  
He then proceeded to turn around and bark out orders for everyone to go back to their rooms, bathe, change into something suitable, and meet back in the Hall in two hours for the real orientation. Sylvia, Nenaphe, Rodica, Jovia, and Amenea were among those who obeyed the quickest.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Okay, a test, I get that, and I even kinda like the idea, especially since we aced it," Rodica was the first one to start talking once they all entered Sylvia's chambers, having opted to talk a bit before getting ready for the 'real' orientation. "But what about those General dudes? There's definately something up with them."  
  
"I concur," Nenaphe said, accepting a Knitter from Kana with a smile. Kana handed more of the healing tools to the other girls, and they set to freeing themselves of the minor cuts and scrapes flying debree had gifted them with.  
  
"I think it's probably something like, every four years -since it takes four years to graduate- the Elite stick a few of their officers in as cadets, and they act as spies." Jovia suggested as she handed her Knitter back to Kana.  
  
"Spy on their own students?" Kana blinked in surprise. "That sounds rather...well, why would they do that unless they had something to fear from them?"  
  
"They do." Amenea sighed. "Revolt, boycotts, secret plots. There's a reason we were brought in to clean up this place. It's gotten really bad. People have been wondering why some cadets get kicked out for apparently no reason, though now I think it might have something to do with those cadets having planned something. The Generals are probably *real* Generals. They get wind of some cadets planning a take-over or some raucious prank, they get kicked out. You saw the type of guys trying out to get into the Academy."  
  
"This place has gotten so corrupted that they need to spy on their own cadets?" Sylvia said in a bewildered tone of voice. "That's..."  
  
"Sad." Rodica finished.  
  
"Very." Jovia agreed.  
  
After that, there really wasn't much more to say, and they all split up to get ready for the 'real orientation.'  
  
  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
A bit pointless of a chapter, I know. I view this as one of those 'transaction' chapters. In this case, the chapter between the girls being scattered people and them finally becoming actual cadets. A transaction from their life as riffraffs, to their lives of training.  
  
Anyhoo, gomen for not updating in such a long time. A lot of things got in my way; moving, school, family trouble, ect. That and my other fic 'Will of the Ring' seemed to be doing ever so much better than this one, so I started dedicating more time to that one, then I suddenly got inspiration for this (rereading this chap, not much of an inspiration...), and decided to go ahead and write the next chapter and post. My beta reader is out of town, as is my editor, so I know it's crappy, but I promise I'll upload the better chapter once they get back. ^^  
  
*hugglez all* 'Neways, until next time! Ja ne!  
  
Hope Makes the Universe Shine,  
Makura Koneko  
  
  
  
*ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY* 


	8. Chapter Seven

**_Shattered Tapestry_**

_By Makura Koneko_

**E-mail:** makura_koneko@hotmail.com

**__**

**__**

**_Chapter Seven_**

**__**

**__**

**HoneY:**_ Thanks ever so much for catching that name blooper! I hadn't even noticed! I know I was typing it right, so it must have been my spell check. *sigh* Well, at least I know not to use the auto one anymore…Guess it's back to good old fashioned manual monitoring for me! ^_^ Thanks again. -Makura_

**__**

**In the last installment of _Shattered Tapestry_…**

_"This place has gotten so corrupted that they need to spy on their own cadets?" Silvra said in a bewildered tone of voice. "That's..."_

_"Sad." Rodica finished._

_"Very." Jovia agreed._

_After that, there really wasn't much more to say, and they all split up to get ready for the 'real orientation.'_

**And Now the Continuation...**

"They keep us up till midnight with speeches and junk and then they expect us to actually be awake this early in the morning?" Rodica grumbled as she and Amenea stumbled down the corridor together, passing and being passed by several other students when they reached the main wing on their way to the mess hall; they'd been informed the previous night that _the_ Hall was only used for special occasions. That and repairs needed to be made.

That was another thing…this was one expensive place, they had learned, this grand establishment. Was that what all their taxes went into?  Repairing buildings that got demolished from tests? It sounded rather odd, and from what they had all gathered, previous tests had been the non-harmful kind. Illusions, trick questions, competitions, etc.

Breakfast was a sleepy blur, and only Nenaphe was awake enough –in fact, she was almost humanly comprehensive by now- to gather their schedule sheets from a Captain on their way out. It was a now amused Nenaphe who guided the girls to their first class which they, not surprisingly, had together.

Somewhere along the way, the twosome picked up Nenaphe and Jovia. Neither noticed, through their sleepiness, that Silvra wasn't present. They _did_ noticed this fact, however, when, along with everyone else, they were jolted completely awake by a screech loud enough to wake the entire city, Above and Below.

Wincing for their friend and for their ears, the four girls sighed as they entered their first classroom. Five minutes later, as the teacher, a portly man who was to teach them advanced mathematics, was about to take roll, the door was nearly bashed off it's hinges.

"So sorry Professor!" Silvra gasped as she stumbled to a seat beside Amenea. To Silvra's luck, the Professor hardly noticed, only mumbled something about not letting it happen again. Apparently he, too, had stayed up too late the night before. It seemed he also had a bit of sympathy for his students, for he only assigned them one sheet each of math problems to do, then once they were done they were supposed to 'compare results with friends.' 

Half the class slept, including Silvra.

The girls –except Silvra- were decently awake by now, and they did get together to do some discussing, all right, but no the mathematical sort.

"Have any of you wondered why the Generals admitted that they weren't cadets so easily?" Nenaphe asked in a hushed, barely audible whisper.

"It does seem rather…well, off." Amenea agreed. "I mean, they don't know us, they have no way of knowing that we won't tell anyone. So why tell us?"

"A motion of friendship? Of trust?" Jovia suggested. They all shook their heads.

"Not likely," Rodica snorted. "Not after that 'move in on our turf and your dog meat' crap they gave us after the entrance exams."

"So, then, why did they tell us?" Jovia frowned. "Like you said, Am- er, Nen, sorry. Like you said, they have no reason to trust us, so why tell us?"

"That, ladies, I believe is the question of the hour." Amenea sighed. "And until we know them better, I don't think we really have any way of figuring it out."

The class was called back to order, then, and Rodica poked Silvra awake. The silver-blonde haired girl glared at her friend before, with a sigh, turning her attention back to the teacher.

The class was dismissed, and they trudged to their next one, expecting pretty much the same thing. What they got, however, was something completely unexpected. The teacher immediately commanded their attention, and anyone who entered and continued to laugh and talk when they took their seats was pierced by deep burgundy eyes under emerald green bangs.

Once everyone was in the room, the teacher gave a shrill whistle. At once, everyone jumped and stared.

"In your seats, mouths closed, feet on the floor, hands folded in your lap, faces facing front, eyes on me." The voice was musical, but left absolutely no room for argument. At once, even the most dismal students found themselves obeying. Immediately, the 'Goddesses' felt something twinge as they regarded the woman with a long, tight braid down her back, dressed smartly in a black Elite uniform.

"My name is Professor Meioh." She began, a crystal pointer in hand as she leaned against the heavy steel desk. "To start off, I will tell you flat out that no matter how good you are, no matter how strong you are, there will always be someone stronger and better than you. Always. Sometimes that person cheats, sometimes they use paranormal powers, sometimes they are better simply because they know you better than they should, better than you know yourself. You may never meet your better, or you may be lucky enough to meet them on a down day and win. But they exist. They always do."

Whatever that twinge had been, Jovia felt herself liking this woman immediately.

"My job," Meioh continued, pushing away from the desk and pressing a button on the wall. "Is to prepare you for everything not taught in your other classes. To expect the unexpected. This will range from showing you subtle places on the human –and alien- body that will render your enemy helpless, unconscious, even dead, to simple paranormal influences that even the ungifted can wield."

"Paranormal influences?" Someone piped up as the lights dimmed slightly and two metal rods rose up from the desk, and once they were raised a transparent 3-D image of various formulas and diagrams flickered into view.

"Did I hear someone speak?" Meioh raised an eyebrow. "I could have sworn I didn't see any hands…" 

The youth that had spoken flushed, and snickers filled the room. Silvra glared at the snicker-ees, eyes flashing. Briefly, Meioh spotted this, and made a mental note…

That note registered, Meioh's own eyes snapped, and her silence was suddenly deafening. Slowly, she looked each and every person that had laughed in the eye for a full minute. The tension and sudden fear of the woman before them was so palpable you could cut it with a knife. 

Rodica and Jovia exchanged smiles, and Amenea's small, tight grin was approving. Silvra beamed at the woman, who flitted a small smile in the girl's direction as Amenea fidgeted nervously.

Her silent point made, Meioh moved and turned, standing beside her desk. A few breaths of relief were let loose before Meioh flicked a glance at her pupils, an eyebrow raised, her message clear, 'don't let it happen again.'

"To explain your question, Cadet Flimeighter." She directed this at the young man that had spoken. He nodded, respect clear in his eyes. "Paranormal influences –or abilities- is more commonly known as magic."

Cries of disbelief were released, then sharply cut off as the ruby eyed woman flashed a stern frown at everyone- everyone but Silvra, who was quite obviously very pleased, and Nenaphe, who looked as if she'd just remembered something.

_"That's right…"_ Nenaphe thought. _"I never got a chance to tell Seren- er, Silvra yesterday…or this morning…"_

"I have been informed that a select few of you possess a natural talent for wielding this anomaly. Those few I will list after class and they will stay with me for further instruction on the matter while the rest of you will go to your specials training, after which will be lunch, then general training." She then waved the crystal pointer at the 3-D images.

"What you see before you are various diagrams of tesseract. It is the only known instrument to give us any inkling of how time really works. To understand magic and physics, you need to understand how the universe, my students, is something mortal minds cannot grasp until they understand the universe's building blocks. And since time is the simplest of those building blocks, we will start with it. Next month we will move on to Matter, then to Magus- better known as 'Space'- which will lead us into Magic.

"Now, to start off, who can tell me the five main elements of Time?" 

Immediately, only four hands went up. To the slight surprise of a few of the Goddesses, Silvra was one of them. Meioh called on her.

"The five main elements of Time are Endurance, Destruction, Death, Life, and the Tapestry." She hesitated. "Theoretically." 

"You're right, on all accounts, including the theoretic part," Meioh smiled slightly at the girl, who went from nervous to blindingly perky. No one noticed, but Meioh was hard pressed not to laugh….for more things than one. Oh, what a joy to see this girl once more! Quickly, she shoved those thoughts aside. No time for that now, especially when it was so clear that none of the five girls before her remembered anything… Again tucking such ponderings for later, Professor Setsuna Meioh returned to teaching her class on the very thing was foremost in her knowledge.

"All but the last Elements Cadet Monstrahl mentioned are pretty self evident." Meioh began, tapping the diagrams with her crystal pointer. The students now noticed a word below each diagram, which were actually symbols and runes- apparently each one represented one of the Elements of Time. "The Tapestry is under the control of the Three Fates of Destiny. No one knows their names- they have had various ones throughout mythological history, and in truth their existence is pure theory. The concept is that the Three Fates are constantly weaving a tapestry of life, of events, disasters, anomalies, etc. A visual, magical retelling of the history of existence itself."

"What would happen if this tapestry were to ever be broken, supposing it really exists?" Ameana asked once she had raised her hand. Meioh's lips quirked.

"That, too, is mere speculation. Some think the universe would cease to exist. Others think time would become unstable. Some think it would 'shatter' so to speak, leaving the Fates as good as nonexistent, until someone either destroyed the remaining pieces or rewove them together. Until then, destiny and time is as watery as a mist, completely unset. Most likely the world would be thrown into Chaos."

Immediately, everyone's minds went to the times before the Elite had been formed.

Another hand went up. Meioh acknowledged it with a nod.

"Professor, what if the Tapestry has already shattered? What if that was what happened all those years ago, in the Dark Times? Does that mean we are in the age of the 'Shattered Tapestry' so to speak?" The speaker was a young woman with a very curvy figure and waist length dark blonde hair in a tight French braid, and bright eyes of a pale sea green color, an almost light silvery green. Her interest in the subject was blatantly obvious.

Something in Meioh's eyes shifted slightly as she regarded the girl. "Excellent observation, Cadet Pétillante. Who knows?" The Professor smiled slightly. "All we know that if that is so, it is a miracle our society isn't even more desolate." Her eyes flitted to the Goddess sitting in the second to the front row, all next to each other, taking up almost the whole row to themselves.  The silver-green eyed girl was sitting behind Amenea.

"Since there isn't much more to learn about the Tapestry, let's move on," Meioh tapped the diagram marked 'Destruction' and it maximized, eclipsing all the others, and other smaller diagrams were visible. "Get out your pads, and copy down those diagrams by hand," she told them, immediately the shuffling of papers was heard, and grumbles that they couldn't just use Pads and Pointers.

"And listen while you do," she added. "We'll continue with the first Element of Time, and the easiest to understand, Destruction. Again, the title is self evident.  There are scant few things that can't be destroyed. Love, for example. Hate, even. All other emotions can be degraded down to pure humanity, and I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, even humans will one day be destroyed. Everything eventually is, save for those scant few things I mentioned, which we will go into later. Until then…"

She proceeded with the lesson, going from Destruction, to Endurance, Death, and then finally Life.

"For a bit of homework, I want a three-inch long, four inch wide paragraph in size 10 print –yes, I want you to print it out, no flexis- for tomorrow." She suppressed a small flicker of a smile at the groans. "Now, be glad I'm not giving you whole pages to be due by tomorrow, and believe me, many teachers today and in the future, will." More groans.

The large digital clock mounted on the wall behind Meioh beeped loudly, signaling the end of class.

"Hold up!" Meioh snapped as everyone rose with sighs of relief. "Sit! Now!"

"You not our teacher again until tomorrow," a boy sneered, with slicked back black hair and piercing ebony eyes. He rose to his feet, leering at the shapely professor. "I'm gone."

At once, something happened that caused more than a few gasps screeches, and several screams. A faded grey-green smoke whirled up from the floor around Meioh's feet, swirled up her legs, around her torso, then spiraled around her right arm. She raised that arm, holding the wand, and pointed it at the boy, whom had whirled and was now staring at her, eyed wide and holding no little amount of fear.

The smoke poured into the wand, and it filled with a deep burgundy light. A bolt of light shrieked from the tip of the wand and struck the boy. At once his arms snapped to his side, his legs together and his feet planted firmly as his books and flexis went tumbling.

"You've all heard the jokes about witches and wizards and warlocks and sorceresses with wands, amulets, staffs, etc, I assume," she smiled slightly. "They're not jokes, rumors, or hoaxes, at least not for the most part." She waved the wand, and the burgundy glow surrounding the youth retracted, and was pulled back into the wand. The wand flickered, then faded til it was plain, glass-smooth crystal once more.

"For those of you whom came out positive in the tests last week," Meioh continued as the youth grabbed his books and sat. "You will learn to do that and things like it with simple glass wands. Your graduation in four years will be to select, make, and Bind your own personal one –also called a _magora_- be it wand, staff, amulet, sword, etc.

"I will read that list of people now," the buzzer went off again. "Then you may go." She touched the screen behind her again, and a list came up. She began reading names. To the surprise of many, the cheeky youth was one of the first ones called. Some people looked relieved when Meioh passed the letter of their last name, others disappointed.

"Faesilvria Monstrahl," Meioh raised an eyebrow at Silvra, who grinned widely, beaming, practically bouncing in her seat. She looked at her friends as they congratulated her- they knew how much it meant to the girl to know that she had the potential to be good at something that most people couldn't even hope to get good at no matter how hard they studied and practiced. Silvra spotted the knowing gleam in Nenaphe's eyes, and made a note to ask about that later, as something in the back of her mind clicked.

The Pétillante girl was also on the list- "Andromeda Pétillante" was the name Meioh called. The girl hissed an exuberant 'yes!' under her breath.

The last name called ("Moraine Zelany"), and Meioh dismissed the rest, who bolted, either not wanting to be late, or wanting to get away from the mysterious woman who was their professor. 

"You knew!" Silvra said in an excited, but hushed tone as she rose with Nenaphe and touched the girl's right upper arm. Nenaphe smiled slightly.

"I remembered seeing a man walking around during testing," Nenaphe explained. "I watched where he went, and he went to seemingly report to someone. He was looking and motioning towards you, looking quite excited. Then both men went to the Colenol that I knew was in charge of keeping track of scores to be posted after the testing."

Nenaphe and the other girls were the only ones left in the room that wasn't supposed to be there. Spotting this, and flashing a nervously apologetic smile to Meioh, who only raised an eyebrow and flitted her gaze to the door pointingly, Nenaphe hugged Silvra and left.

"Knock 'em dead, princess!" Jovia winked at the shorter girl before letting the door close behind her.

Silvra took her seat again, aware that all eyes were on her. She suddenly felt quite alone without any of her friends, without Kana, without her grand robes to ensure some measure of treatment. She flushed slightly and grinned. The girl on her right returned it, and Silvra recognized her as the one whom had recited the theory of the Tapestry, Andromeda Pétillante. Suddenly Silvra didn't feel quite so alone as Meioh called her students to order again, once again snapping out the orders of no talking, feet on the floor, facing front, eyes on her.

A surge of excitement making it hard for her not to wiggle, Syvlia, for the first time in her life, listened with rapt attention to ever single word her professor spoke. So help her, she would be the best Mage in the class! Grinning as Meioh began to discuss with them the pros and cons of Magic and Mage working, Silvra touched the silver gem at her throat, just barely hidden by the high collar of her uniform.

Not only was she going to be the best, she thought, but she already knew what her _magora_ would be…

These new thoughts in mind, along with the memory of the words exchanged between her and Arden a few nights before, made her smile quite brightly indeed. For once, Silvra thought that maybe this 'disgrace' business wasn't so bad after all…

**_To Be Continued._**

I'm finally over my writer's block! WAHOO! You have my plot fairy, Althea, to thank for that. ^__^ Chapters should be coming quicker, now. I do apologize for the long hiatus. It shouldn't happen again. Thank you all for sticking with me! I confess I did consider 'shelving it' as Ceila put it, but your encouragement made me stick it out a lil longer til inspiration struck again. Thanks!

I admit the response to this fic is less than excitement-inspiring, but I think that's just because I got spoiled after Will of the Ring, I mean, eight hundred? For a subject that doesn't get nearly as many visitors as, say, the Harry Potter or LotR section, and for a crossover that seems to be less and less popular lately… 0.0 I'm still getting over the shock.

By the way, does any of my readers watch Andromeda? By Gene Roddenberry? I have a lil tickle fairy (better known as a plot bunny) wiggling and tickling my brain about an idea for a SM/Andromeda crossover. I might give it a whirl, because I haven't seen many of those if nothing else.

Well, this is a longer A/N than usual. At least, I haven't done such a long one in a while, lol. ^_^ Until next time! Ja!

**_Hope Makes the Universe Shine,_**

_Makura Koneko_

**ALL STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY**


	9. Readers

**_Dear Readers,_**

As fond as I was of this story in the beginning, and as much as I tried to raise it up out of the disorganized slump it had slipped into within the first few chapters, I've decided to drop this fic. I will probably rewrite it sometime in the future, but I am simply not pleased with this thing.

Upon receiving a review from one **_Susan Bones_** (btw, that stung, sweetheart, for all you were right), I reread it and forced myself to come to a heart wretching realization- too many questions, not enough answers. No plot to speak of, just an initial concept. Too much description in some places and not enough in others. I feel this story a waste of time and a bit of an embarrassment to my other, better work.

As I said, I will probably take it up again in the future rewriting from the beginning (those of you that wish to be notified of when this happens, e-mail me at Makura_koneko@hotmail.com), but until then I will be refocusing my attention on Dream of Reality, which actually has a plot.

I am sad, yes, as this was my very first Sailor Moon fanfic ever. Indeed, the very first piece I ever put forth. To see it fail so miserably hasn't been exactly easy to deal with. Live and learn, ne?

Until next time, minna-chans.

**_Hope Makes the Universe Shine,_**

_Makura Koneko_


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